


The Son's Silence and the Serpent's Secret

by cheyla



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Reality, Fostered Harry, Severitus, Slytherin Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 51
Words: 174,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4343963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheyla/pseuds/cheyla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only two people in the world know the secret. It is a secret both would die to keep because if it was to be revealed, life as they know it would cease to exist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The early hours of the morning were completely silent on the street of Privet Drive. It was nearly impossible to tell that only a little more than an hour before, three wizards had occupied the driveway of the house labeled number four, Privet Drive. The only thing that told of the time they had spent there was the bundle of blankets placed upon the doorstep, where bottles of milk would usually be set out.

It was that bundle of blankets that the man was after. He walked silently down the street of Privet Drive, moving as only a man accustomed to deception and stealth would be. His black robes billowed behind him, making his fast pace seem even faster. He could not reach number four fast enough.

However, once he was there, he regretted coming to Privet Drive in the first place. It was all he could do to not break down right there and let out a cry that would awake, and frighten, the entire neighborhood. In that bundle of blankets was the symbol of everything he had once had and now was lost due to the mistake he had made. In that bundle of blankets was the one thing he wanted to have the most in his life but due to a technicality, was impossible to obtain. In that bundle of blankets was the one person he would die to protect, would spend his life protecting, for a very simple reason. The baby within that bundle of blankets, a one Harry Potter, was family, the only family he had left now. He would protect his family with every ounce of his strength and with every ounce of his spirit. That was what family did.

With trembling hands, the man crouched down and pulled a piece of parchment out of the inside of his robes. He folded it and tucked it behind the letter that was already there. He knew the boy would never see the letter that had been left there by Albus Dumbledore, but he had to ensure that the boy would read his letter. That was why he had written it on a piece of parchment that was inflammable, unable to be torn, unable to be shredded, and unable to get wet. He would send one every year, on the boy's birthday in the hopes that sometime within the next decade, Harry Potter would be able to read his letter. It didn't even touch on what had truly happened but it would give the boy some sense of connection to him, and that was enough.

After the letter had been placed, the man stood up and glanced down at the slumbering baby one last time. It was a heartbreaking sight. It would be so easy, to take the child and to hide him away from the world. It would be just the two of them. They could become a real family, or at least as close to one as possible.

It wouldn't be able to last though. Albus Dumbledore and the rest of the Wizarding World would not rest until they were able to find Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived. If he took Harry with him and they were found, everything that he and his family had worked so hard to keep secret would come to light. If that happened, then Harry would be taken from him—forever. And that was unacceptable.

No. He had to leave Harry on the doorstep, had to leave Harry with his aunt and uncle. There was no other way.

Turning and walking away was the most painful thing he had to do. It took everything he had not to turn back and look just one more time at the baby on the doorstep.

Harry Potter did not receive the original letter, nor did he receive any of the letters that were sent the following six years. But, on his seventh birthday, yet another letter came while his Uncle Vernon was away at work. Upon realizing that the letter would not be destroyed and that it was the same as those that had arrived in previous years, Aunt Petunia had a brief moment of frustration and sympathy. She shoved the letter under the cupboard door, writing on the outside of the letter that no one was to know about this letter and who gave it to Harry.

For Harry Potter, his birthday had been like any other day. He had to get up, help Aunt Petunia with breakfast, and then deal with his cousin, who was insistent on tormenting him all throughout the day. While Dudley was being his usual self, Harry helped his Aunt Petunia with the cleaning before it was time for him to make dinner, with his aunt supervising him. It wasn't until after dinner that he had any free time. The only change in the day so far was the presentation of Harry's present from the Dursleys. It was a pair of Dudley's old socks. Upon receiving the present, Harry had only nodded in feigned gratitude and that was it. Nothing else was done to acknowledge Harry's birthday.

That was why the letter was a surprise. Never before had someone written to Harry and never before had Harry received two presents on his birthday, if the letter could be considered a present. With great eagerness, Harry unfolded the piece of parchment, reading it greedily. It was short, but at least it was something. Something that Harry had never dreamed of.

_Harry,_

_There are a lot of things that you have not been told. There will be things you will never be told. There are things you will have to keep secret, to tell absolutely no one, not even your best friend. What is written next falls into the last category. It is a secret that only four people were privy to, two of which are now dead._

_You have family other than the Dursleys that are still living. Family that you will meet when you turn eleven. There can be no contact until your eleventh birthday and even then, contact will be limited._

_Your father,_

_S._


	2. Year 1: Part 1

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary book and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry stared at the letter in shock and then looked up at the giant man called Hagrid. Questions were exploding in his head. Harry wanted to ask them all but he wasn't sure what order to ask them in. Finally, he went for the most simple one he could come up with.

"What does it mean, they await my owl?" He asked.

Hagrid clapped a hand to his forehead before pulling out an owl out of his coat pocket. An actual owl. This was one of the weirdest nights Harry had ever had.

Harry's mouth tried to form words as Hagrid scrawled a note on a piece of parchment that Harry could just make out in the dim light.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_Given Harry his letter._

_Taking him to buy his things tomorrow._

_Weather's horrible. Hope you're well._

_Hagrid._

"Who's Professor Dumbledore?" Harry heard himself asking.

"Headmaster of Hogwarts," Hagrid replied. "Greates' man I know."

"He's not going." Uncle Vernon said abruptly, looking very angry. Harry felt all the hope that had built inside him being crushed at those three words. The thought of getting away from the Dursleys, the thought of actually being  _different_ than them—he should have known it was never going to happen. Hagrid only laughed at Uncle Vernon.

"I'd like ter see a great muggle like you stop him," he said.

"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to all this rubbish!" Uncle Vernon spat.

"You  _knew_?" said Harry, "You  _knew_  I'm a—a wizard?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. " _Knew_! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that—that  _school_ —and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one to see her for what she was—a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed to everyone in the room that she had wanted to say all this for years.

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as—as— _abnormal_ —and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

Harry had gone pale. He couldn't speak. He had never known his aunt to be so harsh. He didn't get on well with her but she had always treated him better than Uncle Vernon had. At times, she seemed to like him. Now she seemed to hate him and his parents as much as Uncle Vernon did. It was slightly heart-breaking. As soon as he found his voice, he said, "Blown up? I thought they died in a car crash?"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!"

Hagrid drew a deep breath, reluctant to explain what had happened. He knew that he wasn't the best person to tell this story. It would be so much better if Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall could tell the story but it was clear that he had no choice but to tell it to Harry himself.

He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys.

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh—mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it…"

And so Hagrid told the story of what happened that October night, the parts that he knew anyways. Harry listened, asking a question here and there for more clarification. There was some difficulty getting Hagrid to reveal the name of the wizard who had killed his parents but even then, Harry managed to convince the man to tell him. As Hagrid spoke, memories long forgotten were brought to the forefront of Harry's mind, the most prominent being a bright green flash of light and a cruel laugh.

He shuddered. At least he knew where his nightmares came from now. Still, what was that green flash of light? Was that the curse that had killed his parents? Was there really something that could deal out such a tragic blow?

"But what happened to Vol-, sorry—I mean, You-Know-Who?" Harry asked, after the story had ended.

"Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see…he was getting' more an' more powerful—why'd he go? Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on— _I_  dunno what it was, no one does—but somethin' about you stumped him, all right. At firs' his followers didn' want ter believe it—didn' want ter admit that their master was defeated by a little baby but it was hard ter deny that he had been defeated."

Harry blushed at the proud and admiring look that Hagrid was giving him. He briefly wondered if Hagrid could be the  _S._ in the letter he had received on his seventh birthday but he doubted it.  _S._ was most likely an initial and it definitely wasn't an initial of Rubeus Hagrid. Still, he was doubtful that he could be a wizard. He had lived his life thinking that he was nothing special.

"Hagrid," he said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard."

Hagrid chuckled.

"You don' think you  _can_  be a wizard? Harry, a wizard isn't somethin' you can be. You're born a wizard and will always be a wizard. You can' suppress somethin' like that."

Harry looked into the fire, debating about that. He really wanted to go to Hogwarts and learn magic but he was nothing special. The Dursleys had drilled that into his head since he could walk and talk. He doubted he could ever live up to the image that Hagrid had painted of him—a mere child, capable of defeating any dark powers on the Earth. It just wasn't possible. Besides, Uncle Vernon would never allow him to go to Hogwarts.

Harry looked back at Hagrid with a strange look on his face. Hagrid could tell that the boy wanted to believe what was happening but he wasn't sure that he could.

"But, Hagrid, Uncle Vernon won't let me go," Harry said softly.

"That's right! I already told you he's not going!" Uncle Vernon agreed loudly from the corner.

"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," growled Hagrid, glaring at the large man. "His name's been down ever since he was born. He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled—"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME OLD CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon in a rage.

But he had gone too far. Hagrid's face twisted in unconcealed hatred and rage. He seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, before pointing it at Uncle Vernon. "NEVER—" he thundered, "—INSULT—ABLUS—DUMBLEDORE—IN—FRONT—OF—ME!"

Uncle Vernon's face paled as he stared down the length of the umbrella. Hagrid moved the umbrella away from Uncle Vernon's direction and pointed it at Dudley—there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers. Immediately, Harry began shaking with laughter, hands covering his mouth so he wouldn't emit any sounds.

Dudley ran from the room, closely followed by his mother. Uncle Vernon pointed a shaking hand at Hagrid and tried to say something but words wouldn't come out. He just looked like a fish out of water.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella with an embarrassed look and stroked his beard with slightly shaky hands.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said almost sadly, "but it didn't work anyway. Good thing, I guess."

He cast a sideways look at Harry under his bushy eyebrows, causing Harry to laugh.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said awkwardly. "I'm—er—not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'."

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry. Couldn't wizards and witches do magic whenever they wanted? Why would there be restrictions on the magic they could do?

Hagrid blushed.

"Oh, well—I was at Hogwarts meself but I—er—got expelled. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Why were you expelled?"

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly, changing the subject. "Gotta get all yer books an' all that."

Harry may have just been a kid but he could tell when people didn't want to talk about something. He wasn't going to press Hagrid for information that was clearly private.

The next morning Harry woke up early. He wasn't sure if what had happened the night before actually happened or if it had all been a dream. If it had been a dream, it was certainly a good one. Sitting up, Hagrid's coat fell off the eleven-year-old and Harry smiled. It hadn't been a dream after all. That gave him some hope for how things would be in the future. Maybe in the wizarding world he would be able to find 'S'. Harry wondered if he should mention something to Hagrid about 'S.' but then remembered that he shouldn't say anything to anyone about it. Only two people knew and for now, Harry felt he should keep it that way.

After an incident with an owl and waiting for Hagrid to wake up, the pair was off, leaving the Dursleys behind. The pair didn't even bother to wake them before they left. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed a Dursley free day. Nothing would be able to faze Harry today.

"Hagrid," he asked while the two were maneuvering their way through London. "Were there any other people who were particularly close to my parents?"

"Some," Hagrid replied, pushing his way through the crowd. "I'll reckon yeh'll get a chance ter meet them later on, when yer a bit older. Why do yeh ask?"

"Are there any I'll meet at Hogwarts?"

Hagrid looked back at Harry, his expression indiscernible behind his hairy face.

"Maybe one or two, I reckon. Why?"

Harry shrugged.

"Just curious, I guess." He admitted. It was true. He wanted to find out more about this other living family he had. He was eleven after all. It was the year the letter  _S_  had written had promised that they would meet.

"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the first few chapters (I think up until chapter four or five) are basically a restatement of the first few chapters of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone but after that, it diverts pretty quickly. Bear with me and then the good parts will start.


	3. Year 1: Part 2

The Leaky Cauldron was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Harry wouldn't have noticed that it was there. In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only he and Hagrid could see it out of all the people on the street that were walking by. Before he could mention this, Hagrid had steered him inside.

It was very dark and shabby but decently busy for it being midday. Among the people were a few old women, a little man in a top hat, an old bartender, and a few other odd-looking people here and there. Hagrid tried to pass through the small crowd unnoticed, not wanting to attract attention to Harry (Dumbledore had told him to remain as inconspicuous as possible) but the bartender spotted Hagrid and reached for a glass.

"The usual, Hagrid?" he asked.

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," announced Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Harry's shoulder and trying to shield the boy from view of the other bar patrons. He didn't manage to shield Harry from Tom, though.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at Harry, "is this—can this be-?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent as they listened to what Tom was about to say. Hagrid resigned himself to the fact that it would be a while before they would be able to move on.

"Bless my soul," whispered Tom, "Harry Potter...what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."

Harry didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at him now. He flushed, felling awkward in the spotlight. He hoped that this wasn't what it was going to be everywhere he went. He didn't think he could take it. He had never been one of those kids who dreamed about being famous. Harry would have been satisfied if he had grown up, got a job, and had a family. He wasn't sure he wanted anything more.

Hagrid gave him an encouraging smile.

Following Tom's announcement, Harry found himself surrounded by all the patrons in the Leaky Cauldron. Everyone wanted to shake his hand. He barely caught what people were saying to him. It was overwhelming.

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand—I'm all of a flutter."

The people in the Leaky Cauldron began talking over each other, trying to make them heard by the famous Harry Potter. Harry tried to remember all of their names, hoping to come across a first or last name that started with an 's'. However, it was difficult with everyone speaking at once. Near impossible, actually.

A pale young man stayed on the outskirts of the crowd. One of his eyes was twitching. Just the way he acted made Harry feel skittish and paranoid. He felt something very unusual about this man—something untrustworthy.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid in slight surprise as he noticed the man as well. Professor Quirrell looked unhappy to be noticed. Well, that made three people in the Leaky Cauldron then. "Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harry's hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

It was hard to understand the man through his stutter.

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked, trying to be polite.

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously at the bad joke. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, myself." He looked terrified at the very thought. Harry found himself wondering how he could be an effective teacher if he was scared to even buy books pertaining to his subject. Defense Against the Dark Arts was probably going to be among his least favorite classes then if he couldn't learn anything.

It took almost ten minutes to get away from everyone in the pub. At last, Hagrid managed to make him heard over the babble and break away from the crowd, almost dragging Harry behind him. Harry tried to follow close behind him ignoring Hagrid's mutterings.

"Remain as inconspicuous as possible….not bloody possible…"

Hagrid turned to Harry.

"Lots ter buy. Come on, Harry."

Hagrid led them through the back of the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but brick walls, a trashcan and a few weeds. It didn't look like anything special to Harry but Harry was starting to realize that the most ordinary things in the Muggle world could lead to something special in the Wizarding world.

Hagrid looked around, trying to find something.

"Now, where's me umbrella?" he muttered.

Harry pointed to the umbrella that was somehow attached to Hagrid's coat. Hagrid smiled sheepishly at the boy and began counting bricks in the wall above the trashcan, mumbling under his breath.

"Three up…two across…. Right, stand back, Harry."

He tapped the wall three times at the marked spot with the point of his umbrella.

The brick wall he had touched quivered. Soon the brick wall had turned into a large archway. Amazing.

"Welcome," announced Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

He grinned at Harry's amazement, shown clearly by the dropped jaw and stunned expression on the eleven-year-old's face. They stepped through the archway. As soon as they were through, the archway shrunk back into a solid brick wall.

Harry wished he had more than two eyes. It was impossible to look everywhere at the same time. He tried his best as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the strangely dressed (in Harry's opinion) people doing their shopping.

They passed by a cauldron shop, an owl emporium, and a shop selling broomsticks. There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon…

And that was just the start. Behind the main alleyway were more shops that Harry couldn't see.

As Harry looked around the alley, he also found himself wondering what 'S' did. He pushed that thought away for the moment. He could daydream about that later. He knew if he started now that he would become so preoccupied with the mysterious man that he would mention something to Hagrid and forget that everyone believed both his parents to be dead.

"Hagrid, where are we going first?" Harry asked. Where would they even start in this large place?

"Gringotts," said Hagrid, pointing to a snowy white building that towered over everything else.

Harry gaped. It was stunning.

Gringotts was even more stunning up close. The detail that had been put into was so intricate and tiny that it was missed from afar.

"That's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly to Harry as they walked up the white stone steps toward the bronze doors and the creatures standing beside it. The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry. The goblin bowed as they walked inside. As they passed through a second pair of doors, silver this time, Harry noticed an inscription written upon them.

_Enter, stranger but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Harry shivered. Something about the white walls of Gringotts made the warning sound more ominous. The building also seemed a lot colder now.

Once inside, Hagrid approached one of the free goblins sitting at the long counter. Harry swallowed nervously as they got closer.

"Morning," said Hagrid to the goblin, "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's safe."

"You have his key, sir?"

Key? Harry didn't have a key to his vault. Until today, he hadn't even known he had a vault!

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets to search for the small key. Harry sighed in relief. He was glad that Hagrid was prepared. The man must have done this many times if he knew what to do. Still, Harry had to wonder. How did Hagrid have his key? Where did Hagrid get it? If the wizarding world was anything like the muggle world, then a relative or guardian would have held onto the key for Harry. Could Hagrid possibly be his father? As soon as Harry thought of this, he pushed it away. He doubted it was possible. Most likely, the Ministry of Magic Hagrid had mentioned on the way over to Diagon Alley had found it and held on to it for Harry until this day.

Besides, the idea that Hagrid was Harry's father was actually laughable because Hagrid was so large and Harry so small. Plus there was the fact that Hagrid had introduced himself as Rubeus Hagrid. No 's' there.

"Got it," said Hagrid after a few moments, holding up a tiny golden key. Harry was amazed that he had been able to find it in his massive coat pockets.

The goblin examined it closely.

"That seems to be in order," he said at last.

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid mentioned, pulling it out. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin read the letter carefully. Harry's head began to ache. You-Know-What. You-Know-Who. Soon it would be You-Know-Where and You-Know-How. It was difficult to keep up with. What was so wrong with using the actual name of things?

"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid. "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Harry had the suspicion that everyone who worked at Gringotts was a goblin. He certainly didn't see anyone that proved him otherwise. Hagrid and Harry followed Griphook through a maze of hallways.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked Hagrid.

"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. Great man, Dumbledore."

More secrets. If it wasn't for 'S', Harry would have certainly tried prying more but since Harry still held on to that letter and wouldn't want anyone questioning him about that, he respected Hagrid enough to not ask anything more.

Soon, Harry had arrived in his vault. The cart ride down had reminded Harry of the roller-coasters he had occasionally seen on the television and that Dudley loved. Harry himself had never been on one. It was disappointing because if they were as great as the cart ride, he had definitely missed out.

Hagrid, on the other hand, wasn't quite as thrilled. He was extremely green and trembling from head to foot.

Griphook unlocked the door to Harry's vault. Harry hadn't expected much to be in it—just enough to get him through school. Green smoke spilled out of the vault and revealed quite a sight inside—mounds of gold, silver and bronze. Heaps of jewels and other precious metals. It was the most money Harry had ever seen in his life. And it was all his.

Harry gathered up the amount Hagrid recommended to him and then a bit more. The Dursleys had rarely given him pocket money so he wanted to keep some, just in case. Once that was done, Harry, Griphook, and Hagrid headed to vault seven hundred and thirteen, where Hagrid picked up a curious little package wrapped in brown paper. It was roughly the size of a large stone. Harry didn't ask questions, knowing better than to ask.

The rest of the day flew by too quickly for Harry. He didn't want the day to end. Was this how it felt to be with people who wanted you around? People that were willing to take you shopping and only wanted the best for you? Not even that boy—was Draco Malfoy his name?—in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions could ruffle Harry too much, no matter how much the boy reminded him of Dudley. If he could deal with Dudley, he would be able to deal with that boy. He just hoped he wasn't in that one house—Slytherin? They didn't sound like the best sort of people to Harry, but what did he know? He had never even heard of Hogwarts until last night.

The other occasion that stuck with Harry the most out of the entire trip was when he went to go buy his wand. That had been the part he had been looking forward to. That had also been the creepiest part of his trip.

Ollivanders was narrow, tiny, and shabby. At first glance, it didn't look like the type of shop where someone would buy the most important tool of his or her life. Inside, it was nearly empty, with the exception of a chair and long, tall shelves that held stacks of small, thin boxes.

Ollivander himself was just as odd as the shop. He was an elderly man with wide, pale eyes and an eerily soft voice. What made him even more odd was that he remembered Harry's parents coming in to buy their wands. However, Harry had a feeling the man knew more than he let on. As Harry sat on the train on the way back to Privet Drive, his mind took him back to the actual choosing of the wand.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. No two Ollivander wands are the same so of course, you will never get such god results with another's wand. The wand chooses the wizard, after all, and it is difficult to tame a wand that has not chosen you," Mr. Ollivander had explained as he took down boxes from the shelf. Once the man decided he had enough boxes in his hand, he turned to Harry, who had been watching him anxiously.

"Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one—beechwood and dragon string, nine inches. Take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and, feeling ridiculous, waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once and presented Harry with another wand.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Try—"

Harry tried to wave it around but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no—here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for and it was frustrating when the man pulled the wand out of his hand before he had time to even raise it up. Mr. Ollivander, on the other hand, became happier and happier as the pile of tried wands grew. After nearly twenty minutes, it seemed like Harry had tried nearly every wand in the shop. It was beginning to seem like no wand in the shop was going to suit Harry. Then he was going to be told that no, he wasn't a wizard and no, he wasn't the right Harry Potter and that this was all a mistake. Then he would be sent back to live a miserable life with the Dursleys until he was old enough to be kicked out. The only thing that would be worse is if this entire adventure was actually a dream.

"Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere," Mr. Ollivander tried to assure him. "—I wonder—yes—unusual combination—holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand and immediately felt warmth in his fingers where he held the wand. Instantly, he knew that this was his wand. As he raised the wand, red and gold sparks shot out from the end, creating small fireworks. Hagrid whooped and . Ollivander, on the other hand, peered closer at Harry and the wand.

"How curious…" he muttered. "How very curious."

"Sorry," said Harry, suddenly wondering if Mr. Ollivander had somehow found out about 'S', "but  _what's_  curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.

"As I told you earlier, I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather—just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother—why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harry swallowed. He was relieved that it was nothing to do with 'S' but now he knew something more about Voldemort. They shared a wand core, something that Harry instinctively knew meant a lot in the wizarding world. It must also have been a really rare circumstance, judging by how troubled Mr. Ollivander looked by it. Hagrid looked uneasy upon hearing the information Mr. Ollivander had just revealed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember…I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter…After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things—terrible, yes, but great."

Harry shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. He definitely knew he didn't like being compared to Voldemort. He didn't want that hanging over his head the entire time he was at Hogwarts. He already knew that he would have a lot of pressure put on him when he went to Hogwarts just for being the Boy-Who-Lived. That didn't include the pressure he would undoubtedly put on himself—he already knew that he would probably do anything to make 'S' proud. Hagrid's reassurances didn't do anything to settle his mind. In fact, they even made him slightly more anxious.

As the train pulled into the station that was closest to Privet Drive, Harry stared down at the Hogwarts ticket in his hand. He had all his materials, he had a date and a time, now all he needed to do was find a way back to King's Cross station so he could start his journey.

Returning to the Dursleys was emotionally painful. Harry had gotten a taste of the freedom that the wizarding world had to offer. Returning felt like going back to a cage.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had shot him nasty looks, especially upon seeing the owl Hagrid had bought for Harry. However, they said nothing, pretending like Harry didn't exist. Dudley refused to come anywhere near Harry. He still had the pig's tail.

Once Harry reached his room, he piled his packages onto the bed and set his owl on the desk. He started when he saw the owl perched outside his window but quickly opened it once he saw that the owl bore a letter and a small package.

Harry ripped open the letter in eagerness, hoping that it was another letter from 'S'. It was.

_Happy Birthday. I'll see you September 1_ _st_ _._

_S._

The package held a book titled A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry.

Harry wanted to write a letter back to 'S' but the owl had already left. At first, the boy was disappointed but then he glanced at his owl. If she could find Hagrid, then it was a possibility that she could find 'S' as well. It was worth a shot. Even if she couldn't, there was one thing for certain.

Harry couldn't wait for September 1st.


	4. Year 1: Part 3

Severus Snape sat in his office, preparing his lessons for the upcoming school year. They were the same as they had been in past years with some minor adjustments made for class times and class sizes but Dumbledore still insisted that the teachers redo them every year. It was quite annoying.

The Potions master glanced at the corner of his desk, where a small calendar sat. His lips thinned as he noticed the date for what seemed like the hundredth time today alone. August 31st. One more day. Then he could see his son for the first time in eleven years. Tomorrow would be the day.

Severus Snape looked back at his lesson plans and resumed editing them. One more day. Then he would see.

* * *

The rest of the summer went by too slow for Harry. Once he realized, it hadn't been a dream, he was very eager to get to Hogwarts. The only thing that made the summer even slightly fun was the fact that Dudley was now afraid of him and that he could read his schoolbooks whenever he wanted. Most of them were rather interesting but there were a few dull ones, most specifically his History of Magic book. It was full of the most dull and unimportant facts. He hoped that the class was more interesting than the book itself.

Hedwig was also allowed to come and go as she pleased, even though it made the Dursleys had attempted to contact 'S' but the letters he had sent with Hedwig always came back a few days later, unopened. It was disheartening but Harry tried not to get his hopes too crushed by the unopened and unread letters. He only had to wait until his first day of school. Every night before he went to sleep, Harry ticked off another day on the piece of paper he had pinned to the wall, counting down to September first, which was marked with a large green 'S'.

Getting to King's Cross Station wasn't as difficult as Harry thought it would be. Conveniently the Dursleys were already going there on that day, so he could tag along, no matter how unwelcome he was. They had to remove Dudley's pig tail, which had remained all summer long. Harry was sad to see it go. It had provided him with amusement for most of the summer. He still couldn't think of that particular incident without smiling.

Harry woke at five o'clock the next morning and remained awake, despite having woken up every hour since he had gone to bed. He was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He checked his Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage with another unopened letter sitting next to her cage (still no reply from 'S'), and then paced the room, checking all the nooks and crannies he had stored things, waiting for the Dursleys to get up. Two hours later, Harry's huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Dursleys' car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into sitting next to Harry, and they were off. It was an uncomfortable ride but that didn't ruin Harry's mood.

Getting to King's Cross hadn't been a problem. Actually finding platform nine and three-quarters was the problem. There was only platforms nine and ten visible. The Dursleys took amusement at the confused look upon Harry's face before they abandoned him to the crowd.

He stopped a passing guard to ask for directions but it didn't help. Harry had no other information except for the time the train was leaving, the date the train was leaving, the platform number and the name Hogwarts but none of that was clearly helpful to the guard. In the end the guard strode away, frustrated and muttering about time wasters. Harry was trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, he had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and he had no idea how to do it. He was stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk he could hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money, and a large owl. This was turning into his worst nightmare.

Luckily, Harry was saved by a family of red-heads. If he hadn't have overheard them mentioning the word Muggles, he definitely would have missed the train. He followed them, heart hammering. The first couple of times, Harry missed what the red-haired children did to get on the platform. Finally he had to resign himself to asking before he missed his chance. He was fortunate that this seemed to be a rather nice family. Not anything like that boy Draco Malfoy. The mother managed to point him in the right direction, right on time. There was only five minutes until the train was scheduled to leave.

Platform nine and three-quarters was nothing like Harry had imagined it to be. There were more students than he could have ever thought possible. The Hogwarts Express was an actual (scarlet!) steam engine. It was actually a train and not something disguised as a train, like Harry had expected it to be. Harry was relieved as he stepped foot on the train. He had done it. He had taken the first step on his journey to Hogwarts and hopefully finding out who 'S' was.

There wasn't a place to sit until nearly the end of the train. Harry struggled some with his trunk but eventually managed. All it took was a little adjusting and a lot of determination to get it up the stairs—and some help from a pair of red-headed twins. They had been a part of the family he had spotted in the main part King's Cross Station. They were nearly as nice as their mother had been but had stared some once they spotted the scar on Harry's forehead. Harry was relieved when they left and even more relieved when the train started moving. He really wanted to get to Hogwarts. He had waited all summer and didn't want to wait any longer. He may not know where he was going or what he was going towards but he knew that 'S' was at the end of his travels and that was all that mattered. Besides, anywhere was better than with the Dursleys at Privet Drive.

The train ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. Harry was joined by the youngest member of the red-haired family—the Weasleys, he learned. Ron introduced Harry to some of the more curious aspects of the wizarding world, such as Chocolate Frogs, wizarding photos, Bertie Bott's' Every Flavor Beans, and some differences between the wizarding and muggle worlds. It was similar to culture shock. A few more people ended up popping in but they didn't stay long. Among those were a boy missing his toad named Neville, a bossy, bushy-haired girl named Hermione, and the one and only Draco Malfoy with his lackeys. The last encounter set Harry really on edge. He couldn't believe anyone could be so rude, insulting and condescending to someone he had just met. Harry had never been so close to punching someone before.

Thankfully Scabbers, Ron's rat, had unintentionally intervened before he actually did punch Draco Malfoy. Fighting would not have been a great way to start the school year. It might have even gotten him expelled before he had seen the inside of Hogwarts and being expelled would have meant no 'S'.

Harry's stomach lurched with nerves as he stepped off the steps. He was nearly at Hogwarts. He would get to meet 'S'!

Hogwarts was just like Harry had expected to be—utterly magnificent. It was the most beautiful place he had ever seen and that included Gringotts. It was an actual castle! Approaching it and getting a closer look made it even more beautiful. It was incomparable to anything else Harry had ever seen.

Not including Hagrid, this first person from Hogwarts Harry was introduced to was Professor McGonagall. She was a very intimidating lady with her stern looks and crisp manner. She explained the houses to the first years and mentioned something called the Sorting Ceremony, which put Harry even more on edge. He didn't want to be tested already! He didn't know any magic yet—what on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. What if he failed the test? What if he was the only first year to fail the Sorting test and had to be sent home. It would be humiliating. He was so anxious that he had forgotten all about 'S'. It was good that he did because he most likely would not have been able to function under that extra pressure.

Harry wasn't the only first year that was anxious about the Sorting Ceremony. All the others looked just as terrified as he felt.

The first years only had to wait a few minutes but they were some of the longest minutes of Harry's life.

The inside of the Great Hall was a grand sight but Harry couldn't focus on its beauty now that he knew there was some sort of test coming up. What made everything worse was the fact that the entire school and all the teachers would be watching. Nothing was scarier than having hundreds of faces watching you intently.

Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she set down a pointed wizard's hat that was frayed, patched, and dirty from years of use. It must have been  _ancient._

For a few seconds, there was complete silence and then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim open wide like a mouth and the hat began to sing.

" _Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat that me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

Harry blinked in astonishment. A singing hat? That was their test? They had to just put on the hat? Harry smiled weakly. It wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. He stood a chance at being Sorted into a house then. He just wished that it wasn't in front of the entire school. What if he got Sorted into the wrong house? Was there a wrong house?

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause—

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

Professor McGonagall called name after name in alphabetical order. The closer she got to Harry's name, the more anxious the boy became. Harry noticed as he waited that the hat shouted out the house at once, but others it took a little while to decide. It could take anywhere from a few seconds to an entire minute for the hat to make its decision. A horrible thought struck Harry. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if 'S' was watching and witnessed him not getting chosen and being sent home without even getting a chance to prove himself? Or what if he wasn't in the house that 'S' wanted him to be in? Would 'S' hate him if that happened?

Harry lost track of who went where but there were a few names that stuck out. Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom, whom he had met on the train both went to Gryffindor. Draco Malfoy went to Slytherin like he had expected, along with his friends Crabbe and Goyle.

There weren't many people left now. Harry expected to be called any minute.

"Potter, Harry!"

And there was his name. It was time.

As Harry stepped forward, whispers broke out around the hall.

" _Potter,_  did she say?"

" _The_ Harry Potter?"

The majority of the teachers leaned forward. This was the Sorting that all of them had been anticipating, two of them especially. Severus Snape watched the dark-haired boy shakily approach the stool through cold, narrowed eyes. It was amazing how much the boy looked like James Potter. He hadn't expected that much of a resemblance but he definitely looked like James Potter's son. The messy hair, the features—they all fit.

Severus Snape had been waiting for this Sorting even more than the other teachers. He had been waiting for this Sorting for eleven years. He had an invested interest in the boy, after all. Harry looked nervous but that wasn't unusual. All the first years were petrified by the Sorting ceremony. Inside his robes, the Potions' Master's hands clenched as the Sorting Hat was placed on Harry Potter's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter is when things will start diverging. You'll see the reason why as it'll be very clear (it should also be clear from the tags)


	5. Year 1: Part 4

Harry's breath hitched as the Sorting Hat was placed on top of his head. He was small enough that the brim dropped over his eyes and all he could see was the inside of the hat. He jumped as a voice spoke in his ear.

"Hmmm," it said. "Difficult. Very difficult. This is quite an interesting situation. It's been a while since I've seen a situation like this."

Harry's hands clenched in his lap. That sounded foreboding.

 _A situation like what?_  The thought ran through his mind. He didn't know if the hat would respond or not.

"Plenty of potential," the Sorting Hat continued on. "You would flourish almost anywhere though I don't believe Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff would be ideal fits. Too much courage and ambition within you. My, my, you do want to prove yourself…which house would be more fitting though? Gryffindor or Slytherin?"

Harry's hands clenched even tighter as the Hat debated between the two houses. The students in the Great Hall shifted around nervously the longer they waited. None of the students could remember the Sorting Hat ever taking this long to Sort someone before, but a couple of teachers could remember a few instances.

"Merlin, he's a hatstall," Filius Flitwick, the resident Charms teacher, murmured after the five-minute mark had passed. He himself had been a hatstall. It was rare, but not unheard of. Severus Snape overheard his comment and his lips thinned ever so slightly. Yes, Harry was special. He wanted to know what Houses the Sorting Hat was stuck between. He knew what House he wanted the voice to be in but his opinion didn't matter at the current moment _. Nor did anyone else's_ , he added silently, noting the look on the Headmaster's face. The man looked too confident, as if he was already certain about the outcome.

The voice in Harry's ear continued to speak and Harry hoped that whatever the Hat was saying couldn't be heard by the entire hall. He doubted it, as he hadn't heard anything up until the Hat was placed on his head.

"Parents in Gryffindor and Slytherin so that doesn't help too much," the Hat murmured, more to itself than to Harry. "You certainly are a difficult one to place."

Harry had been sitting on the stool long enough that he didn't care where he was placed anymore. He just wanted to join one of the four houses.

 _I need to meet him,_ he thought,  _I need to make him proud. I need to…I can't be sent home. I can't embarrass him._

"Yes, a definite need to prove yourself," the Hat said. "I think I know where to put you now. He'll be disappointed but it's really for the best. Better be-"

Harry tensed. The Sorting Hat was about to call out its decision…

"SLYTHERIN!"

The last word was called out to the waiting Great Hall. Immediately, the boy ripped off the hat and handed it to Professor McGonagall. The expression in her eyes was unreadable. Harry walked shakily to the clapping Slytherin table, not noticing that the other tables were giving his Sorting mixed reactions, not sure of what that meant. The Boy-Who-Lived had been placed in Slytherin House, the same House of You-Know-Who. What did that mean?

Albus Dumbledore sat back in his chair, settling in the watch the rest of the Sortings. He had leaned forward when it had become apparent that the Sorting Hat would take a while in making its decision. He had been absolutely confident that the Potter boy would have gone to Gryffindor. Now, he would have to change his plans. The headmaster glanced over at the school's Potions teacher, wondering how the man was taking this interesting turn of events. He knew that there had been no love lost between Severus Snape and James Potter, Harry's late father.

True to his nature, Professor Snape's face reflected nothing of what he was feeling. Still, Albus Dumbledore knew better. The Head of Slytherin House's emotions were reflected in his eyes, not his face. The eyes were the best way to go about reading him. However, it wasn't going to be that easy. The dark-haired man's eyes had reflected a glimmer of surprise but then they had hardened to reveal nothing more. The headmaster sighed. He would just have to wait and see, then.

Severus Snape glanced in the headmaster's direction once the man had looked away. He had taken note of every reaction. Like everyone else, Albus Dumbledore had been surprised when the Sorting Hat had called out its decision but that surprise had quickly turned to a calculating look. The old man was plotting something and that often didn't bode well for those he used as his chess pieces.

Harry sat down at the Slytherin table, across the table from Draco Malfoy. The two traded looks, neither menacing nor friendly, but neither said anything. Instead, they watched the rest of the Sortings. As the Sortings continued, Harry found his gaze drifting to the High Table, where the teachers sat. He assumed that 'S' would be sitting there, as there were no adults sitting anywhere else. Albus Dumbledore sat in the center, easily recognizable. Professor Quirrell from the Leaky Cauldron sat near the end of the table. He looked more skittish than before, if that could have even been possible. He looked absurd in a large purple turban that Harry couldn't remember him wearing at Diagon Alley.

Ron, Harry saw, was sent to Gryffindor with his brothers. He was disappointed that he and the boy couldn't have been in the same house. Instead, he was stuck with Malfoy.

The Sorting Ceremony ended with Blaise Zabini, who joined the Slytherin table. The dark-skinned boy sat next to Harry in what was one of the few seats left.

Albus Dumbledore stood up once Professor McGonagall had taken the Sorting Hat away.

"Welcome!" he announced. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our feast, I would like to say a few words. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Harry caught Draco Malfoy rolling his eyes as the rest of the hall clapped. Harry wasn't sure what to do. That wasn't something he had expected a great wizard to say. In the end, he decided to follow the older Slytherins' examples and politely clapped.

The feast was unlike Harry had ever seen before. There was almost every food imaginable and nothing seemed to run out. Whenever a dish would run low, it would be magically refilled. For once, Harry was able to take second helpings and not have to worry about Dudley stealing things off his plate before he could finish it off.

Here and there he traded comments with the other Slytherins and made some general small talk. He was happy to find out that not all of them were like Draco Malfoy. Many looked at him curiously when he spoke up and Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of that. It was like they hadn't expected him to be sorted into their House. Had he been meant to go somewhere else? Even when he didn't talk, choosing to eat instead, he listened in on the older Slytherins' conversations, hoping to pick up some useful advice.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Snape?" One of them (a third-year Harry remembered from the introductions) asked a fellow classmate. "Is that the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

"Yes," the other replied. "Professor Quirrell, I think he's called. I guess Professor Snape is teaching Potions again then."

The two laughed a little at Quirrell's name.

Harry looked over at the High Table to see whom they were talking about. He already knew Professor Quirrell, but the name 'Snape' had caught his attention. It began with an 's'…

The man talking to Professor Quirrell had pale skin, shoulder-length black hair, and a distinctive, hooked nose. He didn't look pleased about something. As Harry watched the two, the man called "Professor Snape" looked past Quirrell towards the Slytherin table. Their eyes met briefly and a sharp pain singed the scar on Harry's forehead. The boy hissed silently in pain but as quickly as it had come, it was gone. He glanced around to see if anyone had noticed his hiss of pain. Blaise Zabini gave him an odd look and Draco Malfoy sent a sneer in his direction. Other than those two, everyone else was preoccupied with either food or conversation.

Severus Snape was feeling vaguely irritated. His irritation dealt with mainly with the people sitting on either side of him, particularly the one to his left. Why on earth had Dumbledore chosen this stuttering fool? He could already tell that the man wasn't going to be an effective teacher. The man could barely form a sentence and he was expected to teach? Ridiculous. Then there was the matter of the garlic that seemed to be stuffed into that horrible purple turban. Still, Dumbledore would have had a good reason for picking this man. At least, he better have.

Still, he had to admit that it was better than sitting next to the Headmaster himself. At least he had to only put up with the stuttering and the horrendous smell. Quirrell was too frightened to ask any questions, let alone invasive ones. And at least Quirrell didn't mention Potter or his parents. Severus doubted he could have handled the not-so subtle warnings to not compare the boy to his father. If only the old man knew the truth…

Looking around the man to see how his students were settling in, Professor Snape's eyes landed on Harry Potter who was looking in his direction curiously. The boy's face was an open book. Therefore, the professor didn't miss the flash of pain that crossed the boy's face when their eyes met, black locking with green. Lily's eyes. The Potions' Master looked away, not wanting to examine the boy any further. He knew he would only end up comparing the boy to James and Lily, no matter what the old man said.

At the end of the feast, Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet once again. It was time for the start of the year announcement and warnings. The Forbidden Forest was forbidden to all students and magic was forbidden in the quarters. Quidditch trials were coming up. The third floor corridor on the right-hand side was out of bounds this year. Professor Snape's lip curled up. He would have to add that to his patrols at night. There was bound to be students that would go there just because they were curious. The Weasley twins were some of those students that came immediately to mind.

"And now, before we go off to bed, let us all sing the school song! Everyone pick their favorite tune and off we go!" Dumbledore cried. All the teachers cringed. This was the worst part of the night. They hadn't been able to convince Dumbledore to get rid of the song, even though they tried. Every. Single. Year. Even Professor McGonagall took part in the efforts to ban the song.

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot."_

When the song was finished, the Great Hall became busy as everyone headed for their common rooms. Harry was swept away with the rest of the Slytherin first years, somehow ending up walking next to Draco Malfoy. The two of them traded nasty looks. Blaise Zabini walked ahead of them with a girl whose name Harry couldn't remember. Crabbe and Goyle were behind Harry and Draco.

The moving portraits were something that still amazed to Harry but since he had discovered that on the train, he wasn't as surprised as he would have been. It was still difficult to not gape though. Harry glanced over at Malfoy and was relieved to see that the boy was looking around too. If even someone as snobbish as Malfoy was amazed by the castle, then it must be something truly extraordinary.

The prefects led the first years downward, deeper into the castle depths. A shudder wracked through Harry's spine as the temperature slowly grew colder. The hallways were starting to look like dungeons to him. It was very possible, if Hogwarts was an ancient castle. It probably hadn't been a school the entire time.

The Slytherin Common Room was located behind a painting of a wizard reading a book. The wizard in the painting looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"Password?" he asked as the group came to a halt.

"Morde," the female prefect said, head held high and poised. Harry believed her name was Gemma or something of the sort. The portrait slid to the side, revealing a grand room. The lighting was tinged green and Harry was amazed to see that the lamps were actually floating. They moved to surround the group of students, brightening the area and dimming the other parts of the room.

Even at first glance, Harry could tell that he would love the Common Room. It was elegantly decorated, like how he imagined that a palace would be decorated. There were more than enough seats and tables made available for every student.

Following the examples of the other first years, Harry took a seat on one of the sofas. Two girls sat next to him, one on either side. Thankfully he wasn't sitting next to Draco. He wouldn't mind sitting across from the boy but sitting next to him was a whole other story. Harry had a feeling that he would have to make a truce with the boy eventually but that wouldn't lead to friendship. He really hated the boy's attitude. Draco Malfoy was worse than Dudley and that was certainly an achievement, considering how high his cousin had set the bar.

The prefects remained standing, watching over the first years to ensure that no trouble was made. Occasionally one of them would glance in the direction of the Common Room entrance, clearly waiting for someone.

Bored and tired, Harry looked around, mainly at the windows. He hadn't expected to see any, knowing instinctively that they were deep within the castle. Outside of the windows was a murky scene that was a mixture between black, blue, and green. He eyed it curiously, not sure what he was seeing. After a few minutes, it struck him. It was the lake. The windows in the common room looked out into the middle of the lake. It was amazing.

While Harry was staring at the windows, the prefects could hear Professor Snape striding down the hallway. As he came closer, Gemma opened the portrait so he didn't have to give the password and be delayed.

The Potions Master swept into the room. Instantly all eyes were on him, even Harry's.

"I am Professor Snape," the dark-haired man drawled, meeting each first year's gaze. "All of you have been Sorted into Slytherin House, the house founded by Salazar Slytherin. It is a great honor and I expect you to remember that while you reside here at Hogwarts. Slytherin has a history of turning out great wizards and witches but to join their ranks, you will have to earn your way. As Head of Slytherin House, I have high expectations. However, I won't be telling you what those expectations are. Consider finding out those expectations your first test of the school year.

"However, there are two expectations that I will make clear. Professor McGonagall has undoubtedly told you that while you are here, your house will be like your family. For her, that means you will eat, share rooms, and have classes together. In Slytherin House, not only are you expected to do that, but you are also expected to protect and defend your housemates, no matter what. If I ever hear of one of you abandoning a fellow Slytherin, you will be lucky if you aren't expelled. Slytherin House is expected to show a united front.

"The other expectation is that you show respect for the lifestyles of others. I do not mean blood purity, but how they choose to live and whom they choose to live with. I will not go deeper into this right now, but should you have questions, you should feel free to ask me  _in a private setting._

"Now get to your rooms and go to sleep. It won't do for you to show up late to breakfast."

As Professor Snape swept out of the common room, the first years scrambled to their feet. The prefects directed them to the first-year dormitories. At the foot of every bed was a trunk. Harry spotted his easily enough. It was at the foot of the bed that was between the beds of Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy.

"Well Potter," Draco Malfoy sneered slightly, "it seems I've underestimated you. Are you sure you won't take my offer? I won't offer a third time."

Harry looked at Draco's outstretched hand carefully. He knew what he had to do but he still wasn't sure about Draco. How could he like a boy that reminded him so much of his cousin?

"I still believe I can judge a person's character for myself," he said quietly and Draco moved to withdraw his hand. Harry continued on before the boy could do so. "However, for the sake of the House, I'm willing to accept your hand of friendship." Harry extended his hand to Draco, who took it.

"For the House," the other boy agreed.

Harry was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He had the oddest dream that night, one that involved Professor McGonagall turning into a cat, the flying motorcycle, Professor Quirrell's turban, Professor Snape going on and on about expectations, and a high, cruel laugh followed by a flash of green light. He jolted awake, sweating and shaking. Punching his pillow, the green-eyed boy turned over and quickly fell back asleep, lullabied by the waves against the dormitory window.

Well into the early hours of the morning, Albus Dumbledore regarded the Sorting Hat. With a long sigh, he placed it on his head and closed his blue eyes.

"Yes?" the Sorting Hat sounded resigned, as if it knew this was going to happen.

 _What happened tonight?_ Albus wanted to know. He was positive that Harry Potter would be put in Gryffindor. After all, both his parents had been in Gryffindor.

"Parentage doesn't always determine the House," the Hat replied in irritation. "I considered Gryffindor, like you told me to. His longing to prove himself was greater than his Gryffindor traits, though. Slytherin was better suited for him in the end. Even if he had been put in Gryffindor, he would have always done well in Slytherin."

_Longing to prove himself?_

"I'm not going to reveal his thought process. I didn't even understand half of it myself. He just wanted to prove himself, more than anything."

No matter how many questions Albus Dumbledore asked the Sorting Hat that night, the Hat refused to say more. In the end, Albus Dumbledore was left with an unsolved puzzle.

_What was it that Harry Potter wanted to prove himself to?_

After he had welcomed the Slytherin first years, Professor Snape returned to his quarters. His armchair was a welcome sight. The Potions professor sank into it, summoning a glass of water. He also summoned one of the house elves that worked for Hogwarts. It was one of the few that wasn't intimidated by the professor and actually preferred to serve the man. Quite a rare elf.

"I want all of the Slytherins' mail to come to me first for inspection," he ordered. "Let nothing get through."

The elf nodded, ears flapping as it did so. It popped away and Severus Snape finished off his glass of water. He would have to get up early to inspect the mail and ensure it got to their owners at the same time every other student received their mail but it would be worth it. He would be able to protect his students this way.

After all, once the news that Harry Potter had been placed in Slytherin House made its way to the newspapers, the hate mail would surely start arriving. No eleven-year-old had to be put through that.

Harry was well awake in time for breakfast. He had woken earlier than the other first years, as sometime during his dreaming it had occurred to him that he didn't know his way around the castle. He had woken up at the end of that particular dream and remained awake, trying to see if he could remember the way to the Great Hall.

He needn't have worried. A group of older Slytherins had been waiting for the first years as they descended from their dormitories, prepared to show them the way to the Great Hall and their first class.

Breakfast was nowhere near as grand as the feast the night before but it still offered a wide selection of food. For once, Harry had the choice of what he wanted to eat, not what his aunt had set out. If all the meals were like this, then Harry would be taking after his cousin soon enough—a truly frightening thought.

Accompanying the food were whispers. As soon as Harry had made his appearance in the Great Hall, they had started.

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the blonde kid."

"With the glasses?"

"Can you believe he's in Slytherin?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

"How'd he get into a house of snakes?"

"God, Potter. Is it always like this?"

Harry glanced at Draco Malfoy, who was regarding the whisperers with sneers.

"Err…no. It's never been like this." Harry didn't mention that at his previous school, he had been practically invisible. No one had talked to him for fear of getting on Dudley's bad side. He had been alone at school for the most part. Here, he was no longer a nobody. Here, he was apparently a celebrity.

"Why don't you mind your own business?" Draco snapped at a pair of Ravenclaws, who had joined in the whispering. They shot him nervous, but slightly offended looks but scurried away once they saw Crabbe and Goyle glaring at them as well.

After breakfast, classes began. First class of the day was Charms with Professor Flitwick. He was a tiny wizard, standing on a stack of books in order to be able to see the class. He fell off the stack as he read Harry's name, gaining snickers from the Slytherins. The Ravenclaws glared at the snake house. It had been less than a day but they were already fond of their Head of House.

Transfiguration with the Gryffindor first years came next. Ron avoided Harry, sitting on the other side of the room. In the desk behind Harry, Draco snorted at the redhead's actions. He didn't get the chance to say anything before Professor McGonagall entered the room. Harry's initial impression of the professor had been right. She was not a woman to be easily crossed. The moment she entered the classroom, they were given a lecture on behaving in class and what would happen if they messed around.

Right before lunch was History of Magic taught by Professor Binns, a ghost. A very old-looking ghost. It was easily the most boring class as all they did was take notes that consisted mainly of names and dates and listen to Professor Binns give a monotone lecture. Most of the Gryffindors fell asleep in the class. The Slytherins were only able to stay awake due to their housemates poking them with a quill when it looked like they were about to fall asleep. There was an expectation of Slytherins to never fall asleep in class.

After lunch was Herbology, their last class of the day. Professor Sprout was Head of Hufflepuff House and seemed nice enough, though she seemed to care more for the plants than the students in the greenhouse.

The week passed by in the same manner as the first day. For the second and third days, the older Slytherins showed the first years to their classes and made sure that they arrived promptly. That was one expectation the first years had quickly picked up on. Tardiness would not be tolerated. Slytherins were always punctual.

On the fourth day, the first years were allowed to find their own ways to classes. They left a bit earlier than normal but they still arrived on time, which was more than could be said for some of their classmates in the other Houses.

Harry adapted quickly to everything about Hogwarts. His relationship with Draco was still tentative but he was beginning to become more comfortable around the blond boy. As he got to know Draco better, he realized that the boy wasn't as similar to Dudley as Harry originally thought but Draco Malfoy still had his moments. Harry was slowly beginning to develop friendships with the boys in his dorm, becoming closest to Blaise Zabini and a girl named Tracey Davis.

Harry wasn't also as far behind in his classes as he expected he would be. There were some students from exclusively pureblood families like Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott that had a bit of a head start but they had only some practice and barely any theory. Plus, there was so much to learn that none of the students had ever encountered before.

Friday was the first Potions class of the year. It was a class that Harry had secretly been looking forward to all week. Professor Snape was intimidating to all of the students, but there was a high possibility that he was 'S'. That alone made Harry willing to do anything to please the man. Upon hearing that Professor Snape typically planned a quiz on the first day of classes for the first years, Harry tried his best to memorize every single detail in his Potions books. He was determined to pass the quiz.

The Potions classroom was in the dungeons. The Slytherins were already adjusted to the cooler temperatures and grayness of the dungeons, unlike their Gryffindor counterparts. Each and every Gryffindor first year looked nervous to be in the home of the Snakes. It probably didn't help that Professor Snape kept jars of potions' ingredients along the walls. Harry was vaguely reminded of a scene in a horror movie.

The first years jumped as the door slammed open and Professor Snape swept in. The room fell quiet and the professor began taking roll call immediately upon reaching his desk. He paused when reaching Harry's name but moved on after a few seconds.

"Mr. Weasley, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Professor Snape barked out when he reached Ron's name. Ron jumped, not expecting to be singled out. Hermione Granger's hand shot up in the air.

"Um…I don't know," Ron replied, turning red. Professor Snape pursed his lips.

"Let's try again. Weasley, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" he asked, ignoring Hermione's hand in the air. Again, Ron didn't know.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Hermione was waving her hand wildly in the air but for a third time Professor Snape ignored her. Ron's face was as red as his hair.

"I don't know."

"Well then, it would be beneficial for you to perhaps open a book for once in your life. Or can you not read? Two points from Gryffindor for not being prepared for class." Harry didn't think it was possible but Ron grew even redder at the professor's comment. Professor Snape examined the class, snapping at Hermione to put her hand down. His eyes landed on a green-eyed eleven-year-old.

"Mr. Potter, I hope you know the answers to the three questions I just asked Mr. Weasley."

Harry glanced up at the professor and nodded, stomach tying in knots as his nerves increased.

"Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion known as the Draught of the Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat that will save a person from most poisons. Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plants," Harry responded confidently. The hook-nosed professor nodded curtly and looked at the rest of the class.

"Well, why aren't you copying Mr. Potter's answers down?" he demanded. The timid first years immediately scrambled to get out their quills and pieces of parchment.

With the quiz out of the way, Harry was free to breathe and relax. Nerves out of the way, he found it easier to focus on the recipe of the potion they were creating.

As Harry quickly learned, making potions was quite difficult. Even the simplest of potions required extreme accuracy and timing. It also made the room smell horrible when things went wrong. Near the end of class, a Gryffindor made a harmful mistake. Neville Longbottom had melted his partner's cauldron, resulting in the entire class ending up on their stools. The potion was highly acidic, slowly eating away at whatever it touched. Neville, who had been nearest to the potion when the cauldron had melted was covered in burns and boils.

"Idiot boy!" Professor Snape snarled as he vanished the spilled potion. Neville whimpered and his eyes welled up a little. Malfoy snickered. Harry watched on silently, pitying the boy. It was obvious the boy was in pain, both physically and mentally.

"Miss Granger, take Mr. Longbottom to the Infirmary," Professor Snape ordered. Hermione obeyed instantly, grabbing her bag and tugging Neville out of the room behind her.

Since Potions was the last class of the day and it had ended early due to Neville's accident, Harry had some free time. He chose to use that time to go visit Hagrid. He hadn't gotten the chance to talk to the man since he had arrived at Hogwarts. The giant man lived on the edge of the forbidden forest. It seemed so…rustic.

As Harry knocked on the tall door, he jumped at the barking that followed. He hadn't known Hagrid owned a dog.

The door was pulled open and Hagrid's face was revealed. He looked slightly frazzled, as if he hadn't been expecting anyone to come and visit.

"Oh, Harry!" he said, face lighting up. "Hang on a minute.  _Get back,_ Fang."

The door opened wider to let Harry in and Harry was promptly introduced to Fang, a large boarhound. Even though Fang was nearly the size of Harry, the dog thought of himself as a lapdog and was quick to cover Harry's face with kisses. He was a very friendly dog.

"So how'd yer firs' week of classes go, Harry?" Hagrid asked as he put a pot of tea on the fire.

"They've been interesting. We had Herbology this morning and Potions this afternoon with Professor Snape," Harry replied, patting Fang's head. He missed the face that Hagrid made at the mention of Professor Snape.

"Don' listen to what the other students say about him," Hagrid warned. "I don' particularly care for his personality but he's a good man. Just misunderstood in me opinion. Better than that old git Filch and his dratted cat."

"Everyone I've talked to so far seems to like him, though," Harry said, confusion coloring his tone. Hagrid hit his forehead with the palm of his hand.

"That's right. I forgot. The Hat placed you in Slytherin, didn't it."

Harry nodded and decided to ask a question that had been bugging him all week.

"Hagrid, why are people so surprised that I was put in Slytherin?"

The great man looked away.

"I suppose they expected you to go into Gryffindor, like yer parents," he said. "Most kids go into one of their parents' Houses. With both of yer parents being in Gryffindor, they thought you would end up there as well."

"So it has nothing to do with the fact that You-Know-Who was a Slytherin?" Harry asked. "They don't think that I'll become the next Dark Lord or something like that?" He had heard the rumors that had spread around school already.

Hagrid snorted.

"Don' listen to a word they say. They're just mad. You are nothin' like that man," the half-giant stated firmly. They were simple words but they reassured Harry somewhat. However, he noticed that Hagrid didn't meet his eyes as he said that.

Harry looked around the hut. Game hung from the ceiling and knickknacks filled every corner of the room. It had a very homey feeling to it, unlike the Slytherin Common Room. A newspaper lay on the table. The heading caught the boy's attention.

_**Gringotts Break-in Latest** _

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown._

_Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day._

" _But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon._

"Hagrid! This happened the same day we were there!" Harry realized.

"It did," Hagrid confirmed. "Don' mean anything though."

There was something about the way Hagrid said it that made Harry wonder if there was more to the article that Hagrid knew but wasn't telling. It was only when he was making his way back up to the castle that one of the lines came back to him.

_The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day._

Hagrid had emptied out vault seven hundred and thirteen that day. And really, how often did vaults at Gringotts get emptied? Not very often, Harry suspected. His suspicions were probably right then. Hagrid knew something about the article, something that probably related to vault seven hundred and thirteen and the package that had been taken out of it.


	6. Year 1: Part 5

The Thursday after Harry went to see Hagrid was a day almost all the first year Slytherins were excited for, minus Harry. It was the day of their first flying lesson. Moments after the notice had been spotted in the common room, word spread quickly. Soon it was the only thing that the younger Slytherins talked about. Most of them were so excited that they were willing to ignore that it was with the Gryffindors.

The days leading up to Thursday were miserable for Harry. It wasn't that he didn't want to learn how to fly. It had more to do with the fact that he had never flown on a broom before when most of his yearmates, judging by the way they bragged, had been flying ever since they could walk. Malfoy was the worst, always complaining how he couldn't have a broomstick at Hogwarts and how all he did at home was fly. Malfoy was more bearable around his housemates than when he was around the other Houses but Harry still didn't like him too much. Draco Malfoy still reminded him of Dudley most of the time.

By Thursday morning, Harry Potter's mind was a nervous wreck. He was going to fail miserably during the flying lesson. He probably wouldn't even be able to get the broom off the ground. _He_ was going to be so disappointed in Harry.

The Gryffindors weren't making the situation any better. They were purposely going out of their way to make life difficult for the Slytherins, since earlier that morning Draco had almost stolen the Remembrall Neville had received with the mail. Harry had to be on constant guard, lest he get tripped or shoved in the hallways. There was no time to relax or calm down.

At three-thirty in the afternoon, Harry's stomach began to sink. It was time for the flying lesson he had been dreading all day. This flying lesson was the first lesson that he was going to fail at. He wouldn't be the best at everything and 'S' would be disappointed in him. No one else around Harry seemed to notice his glum mood. They were all too preoccupied with the brooms lying on the ground.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch barked at the Gryffindors who arrived late. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on. Hurry up!"

The first few directions she gave were easy to follow. It almost seemed too easy. Harry's broom obeyed his command at once, jumping into his hand when he ordered it to. The boy blinked in surprise. His was one of the few that had. A small grin overtook his face. Maybe he wouldn't fail after all. Harry glanced around. Malfoy was holding his with a smug look on his face. The girl named Hermione Granger had a broom that was rolling around on the ground. Neville Longbottom's hadn't so much as twitched.

The next step was mounting the broom. It felt awkward at first but became more comfortable after Madam Hooch had gone by and made corrections. Harry's heart started to beat faster when he realized that they were going to begin to actually fly soon.

From a distance, a cloaked figure watched the flying lesson with great interest. He fingered his wand with a twitchy hand, waiting for just the right moment.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle—three—two—"

The figure raised his wand and whispered the spell. There was nothing that revealed that he had cast a spell, a spell that was currently flying towards the group of first years. It was only when it was about to take effect that the figure realized that he had cast it at the wrong person. He cursed under his breath and spun around to stalk away. He had missed his chance.

Within the group of first years, Neville's broom took off before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips. His broom rose quickly, despite Madam Hooch's shouts to come back down and Harry's hand clenched into fists. That broom looked out of control.

Neville's fall was expected. However, that didn't make it less painful to hear. Harry winced as Neville hit the ground.

Madam Hooch rushed over to Neville, her face completely white.

"Broken wrist," she muttered. Harry let out a small sigh. He was glad that it was only a broken wrist. It could have been worse.

Harry turned away from the group as Madam Hooch postponed the class to take Neville to the hospital wing and Malfoy began laughing as they went inside. The rivalry between the first year Slytherins and Gryffindors was about to come to a head for the first time and Harry didn't feel like partaking. He was too relieved that he didn't have to fly. He wouldn't have to disappoint 'S.'

The flying class ended up being cancelled as Madam Hooch never came back. Harry wasn't nearly as disappointed as his classmates. After what had happened to Neville, he had no urge to get on a broomstick and leave the ground. He planned to keep his feet firmly on the ground for now.

Just before dinner, Harry made his way to the hospital wing, twisting an object in his pocket nervously. He had found it earlier and figured Neville would appreciate it.

The plump boy paled slightly when Harry entered the hospital wing.

"Are you here to make fun of me?" he demanded shakily. "Because you're too late. The others already came and did that."

Harry pursed his lips and clenched his hand around the object in his pocket. He pulled it out and thrust it towards Neville.

"This is all I was here for. Take it," he said in a cool voice.

Neville stared at the object in slight shock.

"What?" he stared at Harry blankly. The Slytherin dropped it on the bed next to Neville, eyes hardening ever so slightly. "Why? No one else would have."

Harry shrugged.

"I'm not like the others. I don't want to be." He replied simply. "There's only one…" he trailed off and shook his head. "It's nothing. Just take it."

Neville nodded and Harry turned away. He stopped by the hospital wing door and glanced back. Neville looked at the Boy-Who-Lived curiously. The black-haired boy looked like he was about to say something but ended up closing his mouth and just walking away.

Harry had no idea as to what had prompted him to do what he had just done but after a few minutes of pondering, he decided that he didn't really care. At the very least, Neville Longbottom would owe him and that was a very Slytherin thing he had learned. Do things for people so that they would owe you favors in the future. There was also another rule that he had learned—don't do the expected but also don't do the unexpected.

* * *

Harry didn't think again about his first flying lesson. Homework began piling on, giving him no time to worry about Neville owing him a favor or the out of control broomstick. Before Harry realized it, it was Halloween. When Harry awoke on Halloween morning, he could hardly believe that two months had gone by. It was like those two months had been nonexistent.

Perhaps it was because it was a holiday, but the classes that day were much more enjoyable. In Charms they learned how to make things fly, in Transfiguration they transfigured yarn balls into little stuffed pumpkins, and in Herbology they helped carve the Jack-O-Lanterns for the Great Hall decorations. The only normal class was Defense Against the Dark Arts but even then, Professor Quirrell seemed twitchier than normal. It was like he was expecting something to happen.

Something did happen. Midway through the feast, Professor Quirrell sprinted into the hall, looking like he had seen a troll walking through the castle.

"Troll—"he gasped. "In the dungeons—thought you ought to know."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the Professor fainted.

The next few minutes were a complete blur to Harry. He was pushed and shoved with the masses of panicking students. He barely heard Professor Dumbledore telling the prefects to lead them back to their dormitories but there was a problem with that.

The Slytherin common room was in the dungeons, where the troll was currently lurking.

Gemma Farley also seemed to realize this.

"Slytherins, follow me to the kitchens!" she decided and altered their course. Her fellow Slytherins followed her silently, the older students keeping an eye on the younger ones. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Professor Snape leave the Great Hall through a back way, heading to somewhere that was clearly not the dungeons. Curious…the boy wondered what the Professor was doing but an accidental shove that nearly knocked him over made him push away the thought and focus on where he was going.

The kitchen easily amazed Harry. It was the largest he had ever seen, with top of the line ovens and stoves and curious little creatures that immediately surrounded the Slytherins.

"House elves," Pansy Parkinson murmured at Harry's confused look and rolled her eyes when Harry looked at her blankly. "They're normally found serving the older, pureblood families. Hogwarts must have the largest population of house elves in the world."

Harry only had the chance to nod before a house elf noticed him and began eagerly demanding to know what he wanted to eat.

Going to the kitchens had been a good choice on Gemma's part. By the time Professor Snape came to collect them (it was past curfew by then), their bellies were full of the food that would have been served at the Halloween feast, compared to the sandwiches that the other Houses received.

"What happened to your leg, sir?" Harry overheard a third year ask Professor Snape as they were walking back down to the dungeons. He looked at the Professor curiously. He hadn't noticed it before but now that he did, he saw that the man was limping. "Did the troll get you?"

"No. The troll harmed no one," the Potions teacher replied in a curt tone.

"Then what happened to you, sir?"

"Nothing that you need to concern yourself with. It will be fine in no time." From the tone of his voice, the third year realized that the conversation was now over. However, Harry's curiosity was now peaked. He wanted to find out what happened to his teacher to put him in what was clearly a lot of pain.

* * *

After Halloween, however, Harry had no time to look into what had happened to his professor. With Halloween out of the way and only a few short weeks until the Yule holidays, the teachers began trying to fit as much coursework in as possible. It was nothing overly difficult for the first years; it was just the sheer amount of work. Oftentimes, the first year Slytherins would study together in the common room. They would pair up and each pair would tackle the subject they understood the most. Every subject was eventually covered and once every person was finished with his or her respective assignment, they would reconvene and pass on their notes to the others. The only class they didn't use that method with was Potions, because Professor Snape would undoubtedly know.

Harry began to enjoy those study sessions. He and Pansy Parkinson took charge of the Transfiguration homework most of the time and though it was a lot of copying from their notes, it truly was an interesting subject. They would claim one of the open spots by the fire (the older Slytherins always left a few open for the first and second years since they weren't quite used to the cold dungeons yet) and just sit and work with minimal talking. They were a pair that worked quite well together. A few times Draco Malfoy would join them. Harry hated to admit it but Draco was actually quite smart and worked just as hard as the others when it came to schoolwork. It was one of the few things that made him tolerable.

Besides from doing schoolwork, the first year Slytherins could also be found talking about the upcoming Quidditch match. The Quidditch season this year would start off with a bang, as it was Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Each House was confident that they would win. Harry still didn't quite understand the game but he at least knew the rules. Draco had taught him them one night ("After all, we can't have one person shaming our House because they don't know what Quidditch is," he had said in a condescending voice). If Slytherin won, they would advance even farther into the lead in the house championship, making it difficult for the other houses to catch up.

Harry had also taken a book out of the library called  _Quidditch Through the Ages_  so he would be able to partake in the conversation more. It was actually quite an interesting book. He learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert. And that was only in the first few chapters. Harry was determined to get the book finished by the first Quidditch match. He read it whenever he had a spare moment, including during their courtyard breaks.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?" Harry looked up to see Professor Snape limping towards him. Harry showed him the book and instantly regretted it when he saw Hermione Granger looking in their direction.

"Harry, library books aren't supposed to be brought outside!" she said in shock. Harry grimaced and glared at her. The professor regarded the girl in irritation.

"I'll take the book for now, Potter. Come get it later tonight," Professor Snape said and turned towards Hermione. "Five points from Gryffindor for scolding another student when you have done the exact same thing, Granger," he snapped, gesturing at the pile of books Hermione had placed on top of her bag just moments before. The girl's eyes widened in shock and she scurried away. The Potions master looked back at Harry who held out the book. The older man took it and regarded Harry. The eleven year old shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"I hear you're the one that does the Transfiguration homework in your group, along with Parkinson."

Harry gave a small nod and wondered if he was going to be reprimanded for that. The professor raised an eyebrow.

"Transfiguration and Quidditch," he drawled, "Your interests are extraordinarily like your father's."

While Harry was struck silent, Severus Snape began limping away. As the man limped out of sight, Harry fell backwards onto the bench behind him. He folded his hands in his lap and bowed his head, trying to think of what exactly the man had meant.

Harry had planned to ask about the comment later that night when he went to retrieve his book. It had stayed in his mind all day, making him unable to focus in any of his classes. He was sure his teachers had noticed but none of them had said anything, assuming that he was just having an off day.

An hour before curfew, Harry had worked up the nerve to go get his book and ask his question. He made his way up to the staffroom where he knew that the professor would most likely be and knocked softly. There was no answer. Harry knocked again, a bit louder this time. Once again there was no answer.

Harry pushed the door open to peek inside. Snape and Filch were in the room, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.

"Blasted thing," Snape was saying, "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Harry cleared his throat loudly to catch their attention. Filch glared at him, just like he glared at all the students. Professor Snape dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg.

"What do you want, Potter?" he asked.

"I just wondered if I could have my book back."

The dark-haired man pointed to the table beside Harry where the book was laying.

"Take it and go," he said in a harsh voice. "And don't mention this to anyone."

Harry nodded and grabbed the book.

"Of course, sir. Thank you."

As he made his way back down to the dungeons, he wondered about what the Professor had been talking about. Judging by the wounds, the man had definitely been bitten. They were almost the same as the marks Aunt Marge's dog Ripper had left on Harry a few years ago, only bigger. So it was most likely a dog—a very large one. And then there was something about three heads? A three-headed dog?

It looked like Harry needed to take another trip down to Hagrid's, but that would take place after the Quidditch match, which was the next morning.

As soon as Harry arrived back in the common room, he went straight to bed, even though he had two more chapters left in the book. He wouldn't be able to focus on the book. The scared expression on Snape's face when he realized Harry was there was hard to forget.

It was just as Harry was falling asleep when he realized that he had forgotten to ask his question. The boy groaned and punched his pillow in tired frustration before rolling over on his stomach and falling asleep.

Harry had nearly forgotten the look on his teacher's face by the time he woke up the next morning. He was trying hard not to care about it, but he wanted to know why the Professor would be so scared of Harry coming across him and Filch. Harry had already known he was injured, like most other students in the school, and they had only been wrapping his wounds, nothing more. Maybe the older man had been afraid of how much Harry had heard of their conversation. That was the most logical answer. All the other theories Harry Potter could come up with were utterly ridiculous.

Breakfast took Harry's mind off the matter some more. Interacting with the others in his House certainly helped because he had to focus on the conversation. The most popular topic was speculation on the Gryffindor's playing strategy. Nearly no one had seen their Seeker play. Most of them didn't even know who the Seeker was.

"I bet you it's Jordan," one of them declared.

"He's commentating," someone else replied, shutting that idea down right away.

"It's got to be McLaggen then. If it's not him, then there's only the first years left and  _they_  obviously can't play."

"Have you seen McLaggen? He's too big. He definitely doesn't have the build for a Seeker."

"So? Gryffindor will take anyone if they're desperate enough."

McLaggen was a Chaser, not the Seeker. From what Harry gathered, one of the previous Chasers, Katie Bell, had switched to playing Seeker for the season since she had more of the build that was needed. However, it was apparent that she looked uncomfortable with her new role. Compared to the Gryffindors, the Slytherins looked confident and ready to play.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Harry leaned forward, waiting for the match to begin, which it did as soon as Madam Hooch blew the whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angeline Johnson of Gryffindor—what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

Harry rolled his eyes at Lee Jordan's antics. He hadn't expected anything else. Professor McGonagall was going to have a hard time keeping him in line today. The match continued on, with each side taking control of the Quaffle before the other team managed to score. After twenty or so minutes, Slytherin was the first to score. After that first score, the game was faster-paced as Gryffindor tried to even the score. However, they grew sloppy and the Slytherin team found it easier to score as their opponents' defenses began to fall.

After an hour had passed, the Seekers began to dive. One of them had surely seen the Golden Snitch. The two Seekers shot past the Slytherin section. Harry gripped his seat as the first few rows in the stands began to shake. He couldn't believe how fast they were flying on those brooms.

The student body leaned forward to see who had caught the Snitch but all were disappointed as the Snitch had disappeared were again. The match would continue on.

When the score was 70-50, with Slytherin in the lead, one of the Bludgers diverted off its course, heading towards the Slytherin section of the stands. The cheers quickly changed to screams as it came cannonballing toward them. Everyone tried to scramble out of the way. Harry's eyes widened as the Bludger came right towards him. He tried to move but he was frozen in place. Theodore Nott ended up having to pull him down so the Bludger wouldn't hit the boy. After Harry had been yanked down, he snapped out of his daze and began to follow the rest of his classmates. The Bludger hurtled after them, intent on its target.

In the adult section of the stands, Severus Snape scrambled to his feet as the rogue Bludger threatened his students. He was barely aware of Madam Hooch blowing the whistle to halt the game. He shoved his way to the front of the stands, not caring who he pushed, to get a better view of what was going on. Quirrell was also at the front of the stands, hissing words under his breath. The man looked scared but Severus Snape was aware of how well the man could act. He had been a spy, after all. It was his job to know when people were acting and when they weren't. Black eyes narrowed. He knew what was going on now.

Not breaking stride, Severus Snape continued to push forward with a new target in mind. No one threatened his so—Slytherins. Absolutely no one threatened his charges.

With the last few steps, Professor Snape purposely jostled Quirrell and pulled out his wand, making it so the man almost fell. He prayed that the man actually did fall. That would be one less threat to the students.

A simple shielding spell was sent in the direction of his younger Slytherins but it was all for naught. With Quirrell and his jinxes no longer a problem, the Bludger returned back to the Quidditch pitch.

Harry gaped at the ball in horror. It had almost killed him!

"What the bloody hell was that?" Draco Malfoy gasped out from his spot next to Harry. "That's  _never_ happened before!"

That wasn't reassuring at all. Harry never wanted to attend a Quidditch match again. The only good thing in the match after all that chaos was that Slytherin ended up winning. The final score was 260-90, putting Slytherin well in the lead for the House Cup. After the Quidditch match, Harry ended up making his way down to Hagrid's hut in a small daze. He felt like that he had just been attacked. It had honestly seemed like the Bludger was honestly coming after him.

Seeing the daze Harry was in, Hagrid promptly made a strong cup of tea.

"Have you ever seen anything happen like that before?" Harry asked. Hagrid shook his bushy head.

"Never. Yer professor's got some pretty good reflexes, though."

"He was pretty fast, despite being injured," Harry admitted. "I wonder what injured him."

Hagrid immediately busied himself and refused to look at the green-eyed boy. Harry eyed the man with interest in his eyes. He continued talking.

"I personally think it's a three-headed dog that may or may not have been in the forbidden third floor corridor." That was the only possible place the dog could be. Hagrid choked and Harry knew he was right.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he demanded.

" _Fluffy?"_ Harry asked in disbelief. He had seen Snape's wounds. He expected the dog to be terrifying. With a name like Fluffy, it didn't seem so terrifying anymore.

"Yeah, he's mine—bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the—"

"Guard the what?" asked Harry eagerly.

Hagrid refused to answer.

"Just forget it," he said. "Forget Fluffy an' forget what it's guardin'. That's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel.

"Who's Nicolas Flamel?" Harry asked curiously.

Hagrid looked furious with himself. He refused to say anything more to Harry and the first year ended up leaving, with much more on his mind than just the Bludger that had attacked him.


	7. Year 1: Part 6

Before Harry knew it, it was December and the first snow had fallen. Once Hogwarts had woken to the freshly fallen snow, the newest topic of discussion was the winter holidays—more specifically, Christmas. Everyone chatted about going home and what presents they wanted—everyone but Harry. Harry was among the few students that weren't going home. He was the only first year in Slytherin that was staying over the holidays.

The days leading up to the holidays weren't particularly awful. The Slytherin common room always had a roaring fire to keep the room warm and the house elves were diligent about putting bed warmers under the sheets so that they never had to go to bed cold. The Weasley twins had bewitched snowballs to follow Quirrell around and bounce off the back of his turban. Most of the Slytherins took great joy in watching their Gryffindor counterparts suffer during Potions class in the dungeons where it was the coldest of all, save outside. The Slytherins were used to the drafty coldness. The Gryffindors were not and it was clearly shown on their faces and in their shivers.

The decorations at Hogwarts were particularly outstanding too. They rivaled the decorations the royal family would set up at whichever castle they were staying at that season. Holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls of the castle, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood in the Great Hall, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles, and a few more hanging with golden bubbles that didn't pop no matter how much the students tried. Even the suits of armor were decorated with tinsel and ornaments hanging from their helmets.

At nights, when other students were finishing up last minute homework or playing Exploding Snap, Harry would pour through book after book, trying to look up Nicolas Flamel. Ever since Hagrid had mentioned the name, he was curious to know what Flamel would have done or created and why it was being hidden in Hogwarts. He had tried bringing it up with Hagrid again but the giant man had refused to talk any more about it and things had gotten to the point where Hagrid had threatened to kick Harry out of his hut if anything else about the subject was said.

"What are you looking up, Harry?" Harry looked up to see Pansy Parkinson standing above him.

"Trying to find information about a man named Nicolas Flamel," Harry told her. "Do you know anything?"

Pansy shrugged.

"The name's familiar but I don't know it off the top of my head. Sounds old though. Is it for History of Magic?"

"It's related," Harry said vaguely. "I'm just being curious."

Pansy snorted at that and walked away, not asking any more. However, her words had sparked an idea in Harry. Slowly his idea began to spark a plan.

After the last History of Magic class before the holidays started, Harry stayed back. Once everyone was out of the classroom, he approached Professor Binns who looked surprised to see that there was still a student in his class. Normally they all rushed out as soon as the bell rang.

"Ah, Peverell, did you need something?"

Harry put on his best I'm-just-curious-and-wanted-some-more-information-but-it-won't-be-used-for-anything-bad look and ignored Professor Binn's mistake about his name.

"Yes, Professor. I was doing some reading the other day and I came across a name that I wasn't familiar with and wasn't able to find it any other book so far. I was just wondering, do you know anything about Nicolas Flamel? I must've been through hundreds of books already."

"Ah, yes. Nicolas Flamel. It's been a while since anyone has mentioned his name. He was so popular for a time, when he came out with his discovery. Everyone was determined to copy him. He's a great friend of Professor Dumbledore, did you know? They worked together for a time."

"But what exactly did he do, sir? I wasn't able to find that out."

"Oh? That's surprising. His name is often synonymous with the Sorcerer's Stone. As of right now, he's the only known maker of that artifact. It's doubtful that anyone will be able to copy him. They didn't six hundred years ago and I doubt they will now. Alchemy is beginning to become a lost art in today's world."

"The Sorcerer's Stone?" Harry inquired.

"See what I mean? You don't even know what it is. The Sorcerer's Stone is a stone that can turn any material into pure gold and produces the Elixir of Life, which gives the drinker immortality. Everyone wanted one back when he first created it but only one was made."

"Oh, thank you, sir," Harry said, biting his lip. He left quickly after that, mulling over what he had just been told. If Fluffy—he still hadn't gotten over that name—was guarding the Sorcerer's Stone, then Professor Dumbledore or Nicolas Flamel to steal it and had decided to move it from Gringotts. Not that he could blame them. After all, there had probably been multiple attempts to steal the stone. But why had they moved it  _now?_

Luckily, Harry had enough time to consider this as the holidays started the next day. It was rather odd to have the dormitory to himself. He almost had the entire Slytherin common room to himself. There was only him, a second year, two fourth years, the prefects, and one seventh year that had stayed at Hogwarts over the winter holidays. To avoid feeling lonely, Harry often went to the kitchen where he was always welcomed by the house elves. They enjoyed serving him dish after dish of delicacies. By the time he got around leaving, he was full to the point where he felt like exploding.

In the common room, the elder students played—and taught Harry—wizard chess. It was one of the coolest things Harry had ever seen and that included the ghosts and the moving staircases and talking paintings. One day, they even had a tournament, in which the winner played Professor Snape, who often stopped in to check on his Slytherins. Watching the Potions Professor play was an experience by itself. Every move was carefully calculated and the professor ended up demolishing his fourth year opponent. The teen had stood no chance against the older man.

Harry was thankful that it was the holidays and they were allowed to sleep in, because he was getting almost no sleep at night. Whenever he did sleep, he was woken up by his old nightmares. Getting to sleep was more difficult than staying asleep as the Sorcerer's Stone and Nicolas Flamel occupied his mind. If those weren't in his mind, it was 'S.' Harry had some idea of who 'S' was but he wasn't sure if he wanted to believe it. He didn't want to say anything unless he was completely sure. He was also slightly disappointed in the man too. He had been expecting to hear more from 'S', even have a face-to-face conversation. Instead, his hopes had been dashed. It wasn't until Christmas Eve that Harry got a full night's sleep.

Christmas morning was a treat for Harry. He had been looking forward to all the fun Christmas offered but hadn't expected any presents. He was pleasantly surprised when he saw the small pile at the foot of his bed. In the solitude of his dormitory, Harry opened the presents, glad that no one was there to see him tear up slightly. This was the most presents Harry had ever received on Christmas.

The first package Harry opened was from Hagrid. Inside was a wooden flute that sounded like an owl. If Harry looked closely, there were small carvings in the wood, including one of a three-headed dog. Harry laughed at that. So Hagrid wasn't too bitter about all his questions, just overly cautious. Harry received candy from most of his yearmates but Pansy had given him a book titled  _Great Wizards and Witches of our Time_  and had written a note wishing him luck on finding out who Nicolas Flamel was. It was a nice gesture but useless as Harry now knew who Flamel was. Draco Malfoy had given Harry something other than candy as well. He ended up giving the dark-haired boy a book about Potions. Potions was one of the few subjects that both the boys could tolerate talking to each other about.

Finally there was only one parcel left. As Harry picked it up, he noticed it was very light. The texture underneath the wrapping paper felt a bit like cloth. As he unwrapped it, something fluid and silvery slithered to the floor from the package. Harry picked it up and examined it closely. He had never seen cloth quite like this. It was similar to silk but it was much more fluid. It was shaped like a cloak. Harry threw it over his clothes and went over to the nearest mirror to see how it looked on him. This cloth must have been expensive. Harry wondered who would ever give him such a valuable present. Maybe 'S?'

Harry stared at the mirror, trying to find his reflection but it wasn't there. There was only his head. Harry glanced down at his body. It wasn't there. The boy let out a startled yelp and pulled the cloak off of him. His body became visible again. After staring at the cloak for a few minutes, Harry put the cloak back on and watched as his body disappeared again.

The green-eyed boy grinned. This was definitely the coolest present ever. He only wondered whom it was from. Who would give him something so valuable?

His eyes landed on a note that had fallen to the ground from the package. The writing on the note was unfamiliar. Harry reached into his pillow and pulled out one of the letters from 'S' he had received. He compared the two handwritings before letting out a disappointed sigh. They were different. He hadn't gotten a present from 'S.' Written on the note were the following words:

_Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well._

_A Very Merry Christmas to you_ _**.** _

Harry sighed again. So it was from someone that believed James Potter was his father. He shouldn't be too surprised. He suspected there were only two people that knew who his real father was—him and 'S.' Still, who had sent the cloak? He didn't need yet another mystery.

There was only one thing that ended up taking Harry's mind off of the cloak he had received—the Christmas feast. Never in all his life had he had such a marvelous dinner. There were a hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas; silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce—and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table.

Harry pulled a wizard cracker with one of his fellow Slytherins and it went off with a blast like a cannon, engulfing them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a hat with a raccoon tail attached to it. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him. It was a sight that Harry wasn't sure what to think of.

Professor Snape wasn't at the feast, which confused Harry at first. After asking around for a while, he finally determined that the man simply must not like the big displays of festivity. Harry found it sad but understandable. He normally would not have partaken in such a feast either but that would have been for different reasons.

It was the best Christmas ever. Fantastic food, marvelous celebrations, and more presents than Harry had ever received. And speaking of presents…

Harry pulled out the invisibility cloak and stared blankly down at it. He wasn't quite sure what to think of it. It had belonged to his father, the note said, but it wasn't his true father. He was grateful that someone had decided he needed something of his parents but he couldn't help but want it to be of his actual family's.

Still, Harry had to try the cloak out. After all, he couldn't let a gift like this go to waste. As Harry slipped on the cloak, he felt himself becoming excited. All of Hogwarts was his and with this cloak, he could wander to his heart's content without getting caught.

Harry crept out of the dormitory and out of the common room, ignoring the funny look the wizard in the painting gave as he opened the portrait.

Wandering the castle at night was a totally new experience. Since there were no more lights, everything seemed different. The shadows were much longer and it seemed like things had _moved_. Harry had a hard time finding his normal landmarks and was paying attention more to where he was going.

Once Harry passed Filch on his travels and twice he barely managed to scoot around Mrs. Norris. It was like that cat could  _smell_  him. Looking back, she probably could.

Near the library, Harry heard voices.

"Making rounds, Professor? On Christmas?" It was Filch.

"It may be holidays, but we do have the Weasley twins here. One can never rest with those two around. Do you remember what I told you?" And there was Snape's silky drawl.

"To come directly to you, Professor, if anyone is wandering around at night, especially around the library or the third floor. So far there's been no one, except for the other professors making their rounds."

"Which professors?" the Potions Master's voice turned sharp and cold.

"Well there's been you, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Quirrell. Once there was Professor Dumbledore. No students though."

Professor Snape and Filch rounded the corner ahead. Harry froze and tried to merge with the shadows before he remembered that they couldn't see him. However, it was a narrow corridor and they could easily knock into him. Harry began to back up, hoping to sneak into the empty classroom he had just passed.

Harry managed to make it and breathed a sigh of relief as the men walked past the room. The dark-haired boy was ready to leave and go back to bed—that was too close of a call for him—but something made him pause and turn.

Against the wall was a large mirror, almost as high as the ceiling. It was surrounded by a gold frame, intricately decorated. Carved around the top were the words:  _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._

Harry moved closer to the mirror. Why would something so unique be placed in an empty classroom where anyone could find it? A mirror like this had to be special in some way.

Harry stepped in front of the mirror, wanting to see if it had any special properties. Even if it didn't, he wanted at least to look in the mirror and see nothing there. That, in itself, would be amazing.

As Harry gazed into the mirror, he stiffened and had to clap his hands over his mouth before he let out a yelp. The green-eyed boy whirled around, heart pounding, searching for the dark figures he saw standing beside him in the mirror.

There was no one there. The room was still empty except for him.

Harry looked back in the mirror. There were three people standing beside him.

As Harry continued to look, two of the figures became clearer. The third remained dark and faceless.

Harry reached out to touch the woman standing on his right, trying to see if she was really there. He felt only air. There was physically no one in the room. She and the other two were only in the mirror.

Less confused, Harry looked closer. The woman standing on his right was very pretty. She had dark red hair and eyes that were the same shade as Harry's. The boy edged closer. The eyes were the same shape as well. On Harry's left was a thin, black-haired man with glasses. His hair was untidy, like Harry's, but a few shades lighter. Harry edged closer again. He knew who these people were.

"Mum?" he whispered. "Dad?"

They nodded, smiling. Harry then looked at the third figure, the one who had remained mostly hidden.

"S?" Harry asked. The figure nodded. A tear slipped down Harry's cheek, but the boy didn't notice. He was too entranced by the vision in front of him. It was his family. There was his mother and both his fathers. It was everything Harry had ever dreamed of, since he had received the first letter from 'S'.

From the doorway, a silent figure stood. So the boy had made use of his present already. Well, he wouldn't have been his son if he hadn't. As the boy looked in the Mirror of Erised, the figure wondered what the boy was seeing. Judging by the amount of tears rolling down the eleven-year-old's cheeks, he had a guess of what it was. It was probably similar to what he saw whenever he looked in that mirror, except the boy was seeing what could have been, not what had been. Did the mirror show his reflection? Would the boy finally know who he was?

The figure turned and walked away. He hoped not. He still had things he needed to do, things that required the boy to be oblivious to who he was. After all, it was the only way he could protect his son. He had tried to do that with his present. It was a stroke of genius on his part, copying Dumbledore's handwriting and framing the man with the note. He knew the older wizard wouldn't deny giving the boy the cloak but he wouldn't admit to it either. The boy would assume but he would never know.

 _Use the cloak well, Harry,_ the figure thought as he stalked away.  _Don't waste the gifts I give you._


	8. Year 1: Part 7

The morning after Harry discovered the Mirror of Erised, he found himself thinking of it in his every waking moment. He was so preoccupied by it that he found himself returning to the empty classroom that night. And the next night. And the next.

A few days before classes were about to start, Harry found himself under his cloak, walking the now familiar path. Before he knew it, he was in front of the mirror again, looking upon the faces of his parents and 'S'. They were smiling happily, even though 'S' still remained hidden. It didn't bother Harry that he couldn't see the man; just knowing he was there was enough for the eleven-year-old.

"Back again, Harry?"

Harry jumped as a quiet voice broke the silence. He looked behind him and his stomach knotted as he spotted Professor Dumbledore sitting at one of the desks. How could Harry not have noticed him? Luckily, Harry could assume he wasn't in too much trouble as the Headmaster was smiling. Harry smiled sheepishly back.

"So," said Dumbledore, "I see you, like countless others, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised. I expect you've realized by now what it does?"

Harry nodded.

"It shows me my family," he replied. "So I guess it shows us want we want the most."

"Yes," said Professor Dumbledore, "it shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth, Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."

The Headmaster paused and gave Harry an indiscernible look.

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever  _do_  run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

Harry stood up but before he left, he had one question to ask.

"What do you see when you look in the mirror, sir?"

Dumbledore looked surprised that he had been asked such a question but then he smiled.

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Harry stared. He didn't believe the man for one second, but it had been a personal question.

The next morning, Harry was still preoccupied by the Mirror of Erised, but his conversation with Professor Dumbledore stopped him from going to look for the mirror's new location. He would never forget what he was seen in the mirror, but he would have to just rely on those memories. He couldn't risk Professor Dumbledore finding him again and bringing him to Professor Snape, who would surely expel him for being out of bed after hours. Well, maybe he wouldn't be expelled but the man would surely be disappointed in him and could possibly say something to 'S', if he wasn't 'S' himself. That was the last thing Harry wanted—'S' being disappointed in him.

A few weeks into the new semester, Harry ended up being dragged to the Quidditch game by his Slytherin yearmates. They knew he didn't like Quidditch all that much but they still insisted on bringing him to the games.

"You live with  _Muggles_  all summer long," Pansy Parkinson said one time in a scandalous voice. "You need as many wizarding experiences during the school year as you can get. Besides, Gryffindor is going to lose horribly this time. Professor Snape is refereeing."

"Professor Snape is refereeing?" Harry repeated. He couldn't imagine the man doing anything like that. "Is that normal for him?"

Pansy shrugged.

"I don't think so," she admitted, "but I think he doesn't want a repeat of the last match, where the Bludger was tampered with. The Gryffindor team definitely won't be happy." She said the last sentence with a malicious grin on her face.

Watching the game, Harry could definitely see why. Professor Snape was using every opportunity and loophole he was given to penalize Gryffindor.

Soon bored by the match, Harry looked around the stands to see who had all turned out for the game. Gryffindor was currently in second place for the House Cup but they would have to win by a very large margin to overtake Slytherin. It seemed that many students were hoping for that to happen, judging by the turnout. Even a majority of the teachers were there, including Professor Dumbledore. Between Professor Dumbledore being there and Professor Snape refereeing the match, Harry instantly felt safer. No one would even attempt anything now.

From his spot near the stairs, Harry could see Draco Malfoy hassling some Gryffindor first years closer to the railing. He wanted to tell the blonde to knock it off, but he didn't want to go anywhere near the railing. He was still fairly traumatized from his first match. Instead, the green-eyed boy had to settle for rolling his eyes.

Shockingly, Gryffindor ended up winning the match, but not by the margin they needed to overtake Slytherin. Once the match had ended, the Slytherins slipped back to their dorm where one of the prefects had arranged a quiet celebration remaining on top. The house-elves certainly outdid themselves with the small feast.

It seemed that as soon as Christmas break had ended and classes had restarted, that the Easter holidays and exams were bearing down on them. Everyone found himself or herself struggling with the added work that the teachers were handing out. Even the study groups the Slytherin first years had formed weren't enough. Harry tried to remain on top of the work like he had done earlier in the year by trying to finish everything the night it was assigned but it got to the point where he was falling behind and having to put off assignments until the next day or even the day after that. Harry spent most of his free time in the library, where one day he came across an unusual visitor.

"Hagrid! What are you doing here?" he asked as soon as he spotted the large man. Hagrid looked up and shuffled over to where Harry was sitting alone, hiding something behind his back.

"Jus' looking," he said in a suspicious manner.

"Looking for what?" Harry inquired.

"Er—" said Hagrid and abruptly changed the subject. "What are yeh up to?"

Harry pretended not to notice.

"Studying," he replied and tried to peer around Hagrid to see what the man was hiding. Hagrid shifted, but not before Harry had caught a glimpse of the book's title.

"Why do you need a book about dragons?" he asked Hagrid, who turned a ruddy red.

"Shhh!" said Hagrid, looking around nervously. "I can' say anythin' in here. Come an' see me later, if yeh really need ter know."

"See you later, then," Harry replied with a small nod. Hagrid shuffled off. Harry wouldn't have been concerned about Hagrid reading a dragon book as he knew the man like the creatures but the suspicious way he had been acting intrigued the boy. Harry quickly finished his assignments and trotted his way down to Hagrid's hut about thirty minutes later.

Harry knocked on the door to Hagrid's hut, noting immediately that all the curtains were closed and that heat was emitting from under the door. Hagrid was definitely up to something.

"What's going on, Hagrid?" the boy asked as soon as he was inside the hut and the door was closed behind them. "Why do you have a fire going?"

The fire was definitely odd, as it was a really warm day. Harry peered at it closer and saw, in the very heart of a fire, was a huge, black egg.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Ah," said Hagrid nervously, "That's—er—"

"A dragon egg?" Harry guessed. "Where did you get it?"

"Won it," said Hagrid proudly. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" asked Harry.

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling out the book he had gotten from the library. "Got this outta the library— _Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit—_ it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. See here—how ter recognize different eggs—what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

He looked very pleased with himself, but Harry got a sinking feeling in his stomach. He had a feeling that this was going to end—badly.

A few weeks later, one breakfast time, Hedwig brought Harry a note from Hagrid. He had written only two words:  _It's hatching._

Harry didn't know what to do. On one hand, he didn't want to skip classes and miss out on important information that he might need for exams, but on the other hand, how many other times would he get to see a dragon hatch? In the end, Harry decided to run down during morning break. Then, he could at least say that he had seen part of a dragon hatching, which is more than his classmates could say.

"It's nearly done," Hagrid said as he ushered Harry inside.

Looking at the egg, it was very obvious. There were deep cracks in it and Harry could see something moving inside the egg. It was a marvelous sight. He held his breath as he watched.

It happened all at once. The egg split open and a baby dragon flopped onto the table. It was one of the uglier things Harry had ever seen but yet, it was strangely adorable, especially when it sneezed and coughed up sparks.

Hagrid was fascinated with the baby dragon, to the point where he didn't notice that Harry just snuck away at the end of break without even saying good-bye.

As amazing as seeing the dragon Hagrid eventually named Norbert hatch, schoolwork once again began to consume Harry's free time. He wasn't the only one. Harry found himself regularly surrounded by Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Millicent Bulstrode, and Pansy Parkinson in the common room as they prepared for exams. Goyle and Crabbe continued to follow Malfoy around, who didn't concern himself with studying as much as the others. In fact, the boy rarely studied. It was irritating to Harry who needed to study twice as much as the blond to achieve the same grades.

"Psst! Potter!" Harry looked up from his book in the library to see Draco gesturing for him to come over. Sighing, Harry got to his feet, shrugging at the questioning looks his study mates were giving him. It was Draco Malfoy. That was usually all the explanation that was needed.

"What do you want?" Harry demanded, crossing his arms as he came up to Draco.

"You're friends with that oaf, Hagrid, right?" Malfoy asked.

"He's not an oaf," Harry's voice adopted a slight growl. He didn't like where this was going.

"Whatever," Malfoy said. "Did you know he has a dragon in his house? I saw Granger and Weasley going down there and saw it through his window."

"So?" Harry tried to play calm and ignore how his insides had turned ice cold.

"So? It's illegal!"

Harry gave Malfoy a blank look. That couldn't be the only thing this was about. Usually Malfoy wanted more reason to get someone in trouble. At Harry's look, Draco sighed.

"Weasel and Granger also know," he said.

"How did they find out?" Harry asked. Draco snorted.

"They're right old buddies with that great oaf. I'm surprised you haven't run into them on your visits to him."

"Hagrid's not an oaf," Harry snapped.

"Whatever," Draco said. "They're planning on getting rid of it at midnight in a week. I overheard them talking about it in the hallway. We should point a teacher their way and get them in trouble!"

"No," Harry said flatly. Draco looked taken aback, as if he couldn't believe Harry wasn't up for getting Gryffindors into trouble.

"Why not?" he demanded.

"Because knowing you, that means being out after curfew and sneaking around at night to see where they're going. I don't want to get caught, which we undoubtedly will. I don't need the trouble."

"You never want to do anything that could get you anywhere near trouble," Draco said. "Why don't you just loosen up a bit?"

"In case you haven't realized, exams are coming up and I want to study," Harry snapped. "I'm not going to do anything that might get me expelled which, if Professor Snape catches us, is what will probably happen."

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please," he replied, "he'd never expel me."

Harry didn't respond. Instead he just turned and walked away.

Sunday morning, it was all over the Slytherin common room. Draco, along with Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and Ron Weasley had been caught out of bed after hours by Professor McGonagall. One hundred and fifty points had been taken from Gryffindor and forty points had been taken from Slytherin. Draco had also ended up with two detentions, one from Professor McGonagall and one with Professor Snape."

"It could have been worse," Pansy tried to reassure the embarrassed boy. "At least Professor Snape only matched the punishment McGonagall gave and not something more. Besides, now Gryffindor has no chance of catching up to us in the House Cup."

Her words didn't help. Draco still looked miserable and flushed when he caught Harry watching on. It was really tempting for the green-eyed boy to say 'I told you so,' but Harry did his best to not say anything about the entire incident.

When Monday morning came along, Harry was very glad he wasn't among the three Gryffindors who had been caught. Had the Sorting Hat placed him in Gryffindor, he might have been. Once rumors had started to spread, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and Ron Weasley had become three of the most hated people in the school. Gryffindor had been so close to overtaking Slytherin and now they had no chance. Even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs shunned the three.

"So typical," Millicent Bulstrode muttered under her breath once she noticed what was going on. "People will blame whoever they can for the most minor things."

Her words were wise but they were lost behind the smug grin she was wearing. A few of the more vicious Slytherins were going out of their way to congratulate the miserable three. It was a most humiliating experience.

After a few days, Draco had mostly forgotten he had even been involved in the whole incident. He had served his detention with Professor Snape (and had come back around midnight, looking absolutely miserable) and nothing more was said about it—until a week before exams. Then a note was delivered to Draco, Hermione, Neville, and Ron stating:

_Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight._

_Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall._

_Professor McGonagall._

Everyone winced as they read the note.

"Good luck," Theodore Nott said, patting Draco on the back as he prepared to leave that night.

"Don't let that squib do anything to you," Pansy sneered.

"Squib?" Harry asked. The word was foreign to him.

"Someone born into a magical family without magic. It's such a disgrace when something like that happens," Daphne Greengrass explained as Draco left through the portrait hole, also giving a minute sneer. Harry liked to forget that he was in the house where blood purity seemed to matter the most, but moments like this made it hard.

Harry was still studying when Draco stumbled in, finished with his detention. He looked horrified.

"Never again!" Draco spat out as Harry looked up.

"What did Filch make you do?" the other boy asked.

"Nothing. I had to serve detention with that great oaf—"

"Hagrid's not an oaf," Harry sighed.

"Whatever," Draco waved a hand. "He made us go into the Forbidden Forest—at night—to find a dead unicorn!"

"Did you find it?" Harry asked. "Do you know what killed it?" He didn't know much about unicorns but he always wanted to see one. They were supposed to be very beautiful.

"Yes!" Draco said. "I was almost killed! It was the most traumatizing thing ever!"

It was clear to Harry that the pale boy was exaggerating but he let Draco ramble on about what had happened without saying anything. He was sure he would be hearing this story until term ended. After Draco had carried on for more than fifteen minutes, Harry found himself wishing that someone else was still up for Draco to complain to. Unfortunately, most had gone to bed and those who hadn't were studying in their rooms.

Finally it was exam week. Harry had never been so relieved and terrified at the same time. Exams took place on what seemed to be the hottest days of the spring, where all the first years were locked in a large classroom with Anti-Cheating spelled quills and rolls of parchment where they were to write their written papers. Harry wasn't sure which was worse, the written exams or the practical exams. With the written papers, there was the chance that a student could write a bunch of nonsense and hope that it was close enough to get them credit but the practical exams weren't as long. The exams Harry found easiest were Charms and Potions. He had a knack for Charms and Harry enjoyed Potions. It was one of the subjects he found the most interesting. His last exam of the term was History of Magic, which was, in Harry's opinion, complete torture. He couldn't help but cheer when Professor Binns told them to put down their quills. They were free for an entire week now until results were posted.

The only thing that had made the exams harder than they should have been was the stabbing pain in his forehead, which had started soon after Draco's detention in the Forbidden Forest. Once exams were over and the stabbing pain remained, Harry decided to go to the hospital wing to see if it wasn't something more serious. On his way there, he came across Ron and Hermione, who had just left Hagrid's hut and overheard something that deeply disturbed him. When they turned around the corner and were stopped by Professor McGonagall, Harry remained in the connecting hallway, hidden from view but able to hear everything.

"What are you three doing inside?"

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione, rather bravely, Harry thought.

"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"

"It's sort of secret," Ron said.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's  _gone?"_ said Hermione frantically, " _Now?"_

"Professor Dumbledore has many demands on his time, Ms. Granger—"

"But this is important," Ron interrupted.

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Mr. Weasley?"

"But, Professor—it's about the Sorcerer's Stone—" Hermione tried to explain.

There was a thudding sound as if books had fallen to the ground.

"How do you know-?" Harry heard Professor McGonagall sputter.

"Professor, we think—that Sn—that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. We've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

Funny, it sounded as if Hermione was about to say Snape. Did they believe that Professor Snape was going to steal the Sorcerer's Stone? That was absolutely ridiculous. The professor would never do something so risky! It would be very un-Slytherin like.

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," Professor McGonagall said after a moment's silence. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected.

"But Professor—"

" I know what I'm talking about," Professor McGonagall said shortly. "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

It was an order but from the lack of footsteps Harry heard after the encounter, it wasn't an order that was obeyed.

"It's tonight," said Ron. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."

"But what can we—"

Hermione cut herself off suddenly.

"Good afternoon."

Harry would recognize Professor Snape's voice anywhere.

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," the professor continued. Harry could tell from the Potions Master voice alone that the man knew the two students had been talking about him.

"We were—" Hermione began, but was cut off.

"You want to be more careful," said Snape. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"

Ron and Hermione were silent.

"Good day to you," Professor Snape said quietly and strode off. Harry waited for Ron and Hermione to head outside before trying to catch up with the Potions professor.

"Professor, wait!" Harry called, right before the man reached the staffroom. Professor Snape turned sharply and raised an eyebrow as Harry approached him.

"What is it, Mr. Potter?" he asked.

"Ron and Hermione—they believe that the Sorcerer's Stone is going to be stolen tonight—" Harry panted out.

"And what, pray tell, does that have to do with me?" Professor Snape questioned.

"They think you're the one who's going to steal it!"

If Harry was expecting a reaction, he was severely disappointed. The professor didn't even blink.

"I see," he said after a few seconds. "Mr. Potter, I suggest you return to your common room. There is nothing you need to worry about."

Harry could only watch as the professor turned away and strode into the staffroom. Now, his planned visit to the hospital wing was all but forgotten.

Severus Snape was in quite the dilemma. Harry Potter had just provided him with some troubling information. Oh, he had well been aware of Granger and Weasley's suspicions about him. He had never tried to be the good guy. However, if Quirrell and Voldemort were really going to steal the stone tonight—yes, he knew Voldemort was behind everything—then he had to do something. He couldn't let two students risk themselves against a madman and his servant. He also couldn't go and stop Quirrell himself. He had a chance of survival if Voldemort came back to pretend ignorance but if he took an active part in stopping the Dark Lord from coming back, he would be dead within hours once Voldemort had regained his body.

There lied his dilemma. He needed to protect the students, even if they were Gryffindors, but he needed to survive and remain in his son's life, however minor his part in it was.

With a sigh, Severus leaned forward and rested his head on his hands. He knew what he had to do. He just didn't want to do it.


	9. Year 1: Part 8

Severus Snape strode down the hallway silently. He was nearly there. He would have been there sooner but he had to send an owl, bearing a note that explained the situation, which would hopefully catch up with Albus Dumbledore. Time was of the essence. He was hoping those two young Gryffindors hadn't gotten to the third floor corridor yet.

The dark-haired man waved his wand in a sharp motion as he reached the forbidden corridor, making the door snap open. His entrance was immediately met by vicious growls and barks. Prepared this time, Severus stayed towards the door, just out of reach of the creature's nasty jaws and sent a silent charm to the harp, which started to play. It didn't take very long for the beast to fall asleep. Pathetic, how easy it was to get past the mutt once the trick was discovered.

As the harp continued to play, Professor Snape strode towards the open trapdoor with determined steps. He was too late to prevent the Gryffindors from going in, but he could hope that he could catch them before they caught up to Quirrell and his master. Carefully but quickly, the professor lowered himself through the hole, grimacing as he did so. Once he landed on the Devil's Snare, he cast a  _lumos_  to prevent the plant from strangling him.

Yet another easy trap to bypass. Severus Snape had seen more security at Gringotts. It was no surprise that Quirrell and two students would be able to find the bloody stone.

After the Devil's Snare was Professor Flitwick's trap. Once again, it was very simple to bypass but that may have been due to the fact that the key was lying on the floor by the door, unable to fly with two broken wings. The battered key fluttered pitifully in his hands as he picked it up.

Walking into the next room, Severus Snape came across the sight he was dreading to see. Ronald Weasley was lying among the shattered chess pieces, unconscious and bleeding. Ash and grime was smudged all over his skin and clothes. He lay there limply, looking very vulnerable.

The Potions professor cursed under his breath and strode over to the lifeless boy, looking around for any more traps or sudden surprises. He was also looking for the Granger girl, who was missing. Had she moved on?

Upon reaching the redheaded boy, Professor Snape promptly began checking vitals and for any severe injuries. Upon seeing a few bruises on the head, Professor Snape started to treat the boy as if he had a spinal or neck injury. He didn't want to do anything that could paralyze the boy in an irreversible fashion.

After his tests came back negative, Professor Snape transfigured a stretcher out of one the broken chess pieces and carefully moved the eleven-year-old on to it. He still hadn't ruled out a potential spinal or neck injury, along with potential brain damage. There was always that risk when being knocked unconscious. Another quick spell, and the stretcher began to float.

Professor Snape stood up from his kneeling position, ignoring the slight creak in his bones. He approached the door but before he could leave the board, he was cut off by two of the remaining chess pieces. The other chess pieces were reforming and moving back to their original positions. They wanted another game.

"Move aside," the professor snapped testily at the chessmen blocking him. "I am a professor of this school that means no harm. All I want is to retrieve my students, who are in harm's way. Now move aside before I blast you to pieces."

He hadn't expected it to work, but he had forgotten that wizarding chessmen understood what their players were saying. The two white pieces jumped aside, opening up a path for the professor to pass through. He nodded currently and, taking long, hurried steps, walked to where the next door was waiting for him. Quirrell's test lay on the other side. Knowing the man, it was probably something nasty. He prayed that he wouldn't find the Granger girl's mangled body on the other side of the door.

As the door opened, a disgusting smell made the Potions professor want to gag. He was used to revolting smells, as he regularly worked with animals' livers and hearts. Lying in front of him, knocked out and bloody, was a very large mountain troll. Professor Snape sneered at the sight. It seemed that trolls were Quirrell's weapon of choice. This was the second time this year that he had used one.

As Professor Snape reached his trap, he reflected on how painfully easy it had been to get past the traps each teacher had set up. He was the third party to pass through and he had managed to get through everything in less than half an hour. It was as if Dumbledore had wanted someone to break through the traps and get to the end. It was very like the man.

And Severus Snape knew exactly whom the Headmaster had wanted to test. He was so grateful that Harry had been Sorted into Slytherin and not Gryffindor. Had the boy been in Gryffindor, he probably would have been right alongside Weasley and Granger. The boy might not have even survived this long.

Severus already knew what lay on the other side of the door in front of him. He had set this trap. He knew how hard it would be to bypass. Unlike the other teachers, he had taken his job seriously. Only an extraordinarily bright individual would be able to escape it.

Unfortunately Hermione Granger could be considered an extraordinarily bright individual.

"Put that bottle down, Ms. Granger!" Professor Snape barked as the girl lifted one of his seven bottles to her lips. He recognized it instantly. It was the bottle that would enable her to go forward. He had gotten there just in time.

"Professor Snape?" Hermione looked at the professor in confusion as she lowered the bottle. She could have sworn he had already gone ahead. Was he not the one after the Sorcerer's Stone?

"What on earth did you think you were doing?" Professor Snape demanded furiously.

"Um…I thought—I mean, Ron and I—we thought—the Sorcerer's Stone—you—"

"In coherent sentences, please, Ms. Granger," Severus Snape seethed.

"RonandIthoughtyouweregoingto stealtheSorcerer'sStoneandwantedtostopyou," Hermione spat out quickly, turning a bright red.

"Well, as you can see, that is clearly not the case," the Potions professor snarled. "Did you ever think of what you might have been walking into? What could have been lying behind that fire?"

"We were sure that it was you," Hermione said in a quiet voice. She fidgeted anxiously under Snape's hard gaze and twitched as he paced closer to her. Professor Snape's glare intensified as he grabbed the bottle filled with the potion that would allow them to go back.

"Drink this," he ordered. "We are going back and you are going to be very fortunate if you are not expelled."

"But what about whoever's on the other side?" Hermione questioned. "What if they get the Stone?"

"Professor Dumbledore has one last test waiting on the other side of the fire. Professor Quirrell, even though he has been lucky thus far, will not be able to get past it. The Stone is safe enough for the time being."

"Pr-Professor Quirrell?" Hermione stuttered, looking shocked. "Professor Quirrell is the one after the Stone?"

"Yes, he is. Now drink!"

Obediently, Hermione took the bottle and lifted it to her lips, taking enough that she would be able to pass through but leaving enough for Professor Snape. The professor took the bottle back and finished it off. He shuddered as liquid ice flooded his veins and pointed Ms. Granger towards the purple flames.

"Go. Now." He ordered. Hermione obeyed and he followed her.

"You know," Hermione said as they approached the floating stretcher that held Ron, two rooms back, "your test was really brilliant. Most wizards and witches don't have an ounce of logic."

"Including eleven-year-old Gryffindors," snarled Professor Snape. Hermione flushed an even deeper red. She was nearly the color of Weasley's hair. "Did anyone else know about this adventure of yours?"

Hermione nodded sadly.

"We tried telling Professor McGonagall but she didn't believe us," she said. "And as we were leaving, Neville tried to stop us. He didn't want us to get into any more trouble."

"You should have listened to him," Professor Snape said coldly. "He may be a complete dunderhead but even I can see that he had a point."

Hermione's blush, which had been fading, returned in full force.

At the sound of footsteps echoing in the next room over, Snape pulled out his wand and pushed the Granger girl behind him so that she was shielded. He was ready for an attack. The footsteps came closer and closer until they were right at the door. The lock turned and the large door creaked open.

It was Professor Dumbledore. Severus had rarely seen the man look so worried.

"Ah, Severus, I see you're already here," said the older man. "I assume you've got the situation under control."

Professor Snape's lips thinned.

"I shall be taking Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley to the hospital wing and contacting their head of house. I will leave you to deal with Quirrell and his master," he replied shortly. Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly.

"You don't mean to say that he is here—in the castle?"

"I suspect he has been in the castle for quite some time, Headmaster. You might want to check what is really under that turban of his. Now, if you don't mind, I will be taking these two up where they will be out of the way and under close eye."

Professor Snape didn't wait for a reply. Instead, he snapped his fingers in the direction of the floating stretcher and gripped Hermione Granger under the arm. He pulled her along as he made his way back through the traps Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout had laid. He didn't let go or stop moving until they were safely out of the third floor corridor and almost at the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey had been sound asleep until a furious banging on her door startled her from her sleep. Disoriented, she made her way to the door and opened it to reveal an intimidating and furious Professor Snape, a shaken Hermione Granger, and an unconscious Ronald Weasley.

"What on earth—" she began.

"We require your assistance immediately," Professor Snape said in a cold voice. "I expect Professor Dumbledore will be up here shortly to explain everything."

He had saved two kids' lives. He had done his saintly duties for the night. He didn't want to have to explain his actions. Right now, he only wanted to go to bed.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, still slightly confused, but she knew from past experiences that it was best not to ask. Everything would be explained in its own time. Instead, she drew on an over-robe and busied herself with running diagnosis tests and retrieving the needed potions. While she did so, she pretended not to notice the tired Professor slipping out of the hospital wing quietly. She trusted the man to be able to take care of himself. He was one of the few that had that privilege.

The next morning by breakfast, the Great Hall was abuzz with the newest rumors—Professor Dumbledore had fought off a mysterious visitor inside Hogwarts! There were speculations as to why two students had been involved and why Professor Quirrell had mysteriously disappeared, but the rumors couldn't even add up to what had really happened.

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger stayed out of Professor Snape's way for the rest of the week, avoiding even the slightest of eye contact with the severe man. They were among the few that knew the actual, full story and could not easily forget that not only had he not been the one after the Sorcerer's Stone, but he had also saved their lives.

The night after everything took place, Harry took a trip down to Professor Snape's office. He had been trying to talk to the professor all day but he had never been able to get the man in private. After spending most of the day beyond frustrated, the dark-haired boy decided to take things into his own hands.

As he approached the head of Slytherin House's office, Harry felt his courage wavering. Could he really do this? Would Professor Snape believe that Harry was overstepping his boundaries? However, before Harry could retreat back to the common room, he had knocked on the door. The boy winced at the loud sound. Now there was no going back.

The door opened slowly and Harry shuffled inside awkwardly.

"What is it, Mr. Potter?" Professor Snape asked as he opened the door for the boy. He hadn't been visited by Harry before.

"I—err—" Harry attempted to say something but found himself failing miserably.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Professor Snape prompted.

"I wanted to thank you for what you did last night. I know you aren't particularly fond of the Gryffindor students but I'm glad you protected them."

Severus Snape didn't know what to say. He had never expected that someone would seek him out to thank him, let alone his son who hadn't even been involved in the whole incident. Instead, he merely nodded.

"Is that all, Mr. Potter?" he asked. Harry shook his head. He had a few more questions to ask.

"Who was after the Stone, sir?"

Professor Snape sighed. Of course the boy wanted to know. He was curious about everything, a trait he would have shared with his father.

"Professor Quirrell was acting under orders of Lord Voldemort," he replied carefully. "Lord Voldemort himself was there to ensure that he would end up with the Stone."

"What happened to the Stone, sir? Has it been moved again?"

"The Sorcerer's Stone has been destroyed," Professor Snape replied simply.

Harry was taken aback.

"What?" he asked.

"Last night, after Professor Dumbledore overwhelmed Lord Voldemort, he and Nicolas Flamel had a talk. They decided it was best that the Stone was destroyed."

"So the Flamels will die," Harry said in a sad tone.

"Yes," Professor Snape replied, "but that is life. No one can ever be immortal, Mr. Potter. Death is not something to be messed with."

Harry nodded.

"I understand, sir," he said quietly. "Thank you for answering my questions and thank you for protecting Hermione and Ron."

Once again, Severus Snape could say nothing as Harry Potter slipped away. His son was certainly unique, he decided after a minute. Not many people could manage to leave him speechless once, let alone twice.

Everyone in Slytherin House was excited for the end of the year feast. All the first years had been told by the older students that it was a feast that possibly outdid the start of term feast. Their excitement grew even more as they realized that Slytherin had maintained their lead and would win the House Cup for the seventh year in a row. According to the stories they had been told, the Great Hall would be decked out in Slytherin colors of green and silver and banners would be hanging on the walls, brandishing the Slytherin serpent and crest.

However, the stories couldn't compare to the actual feast. The end of the year celebratory feast definitely outdid all the other feasts Harry had been to at Hogwarts. He could tell that just by looking at it. But, before the students could dig in, Dumbledore had one last speech to give.

"Another year gone!" said Dumbledore cheerfully. "Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were…you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six, and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

The din at the Slytherin table was deafening. Harry took no notice of the scowls the students from the other houses were sending their way.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore after the cheering died down. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

"The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little. Harry felt like he was about to be sick. Would Slytherin lose the House Cup? It wouldn't be fair!

"Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see…yes…

"First—to Mr. Ronald Weasley…"

Harry glanced over at Ron, who was the deepest shade of red he had ever seen

"…for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years and for the willingness to sacrifice without hesitation, I award Gryffindor house seventy-five points."

The Gryffindor cheers rivaled the previous Slytherin cheers. When there was silence again, Professor Dumbledore continued.

"Second—to Miss Hermione Granger…for extraordinary bravery to face the unknown and for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor House seventy-five points."

The Gryffindors gave another roof-raising cheer. They were up one hundred and fifty points. Now they were only ten points behind Slytherin. By this time, Harry wasn't the only Slytherin that looked sick.

"Third—to Mr. Neville Longbottom…" said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet. "…as it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies but even more to your friends. I award ten points to Neville Longbottom."

Gryffindor and Slytherin were tied in first place now. Harry couldn't believe it. This seemed like complete favoritism. He glanced up at Professor Snape, who was wearing a stony expression on his face. The Slytherins glared up at Dumbledore and the Gryffindors looked up at the High Table hopefully. Would there be a deciding point awarded to someone in either house?

"Finally," Professor Dumbledore continued on, "I have some points to award to a student who, once he knew students were in danger, reported it at once, even though they weren't students of his own house. In doing so, he saved at least two lives, if not many more." Dumbledore paused briefly before continuing. "Therefore, I award fifty points to Mr. Harry Potter."

The cheer that came from Slytherin House was so loud and deafening that Harry was sure that the villagers in Hogsmeade could have heard it. Harry sat at the table, looking up at Professor Dumbledore, stunned. He had won the House Cup for Slytherin? Him?

Between all the congratulatory hugs and slaps on the backs, Harry stole a glance at the Gryffindor table. The Gryffindors, who had been so ecstatic moments before, were now looking extremely disappointed, furious, and lost. They had been so close to winning for the first time in seven years and they had lost.

Harry looked up at the High Table where Professor Snape was sitting. The man was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand with a hint of a smile hidden in his sneer. Upon seeing that expression, Harry decided that this was the best night of his life. He had won the House Cup for Slytherin, making Professor Snape proud, and subsequently 'S.' Nothing could compare.

A few mornings after the feast, exam results were posted. All the first years had passed their exams. Harry found himself placed close to the top of the class. Hermione Granger took top marks with Draco coming in second. Harry had never seen the boy look so sour.

After the exam results were posted, the students slowly began to pack. Notes were handed out to the students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays if they were underage. Harry took time in between packing to sneak down to Hagrid's hut one last time.

Hagrid didn't look surprised to see him. Instead, he seemed to have been expecting Harry.

"I meant to get ter yeh before, but I was busy," he explained. "I have a present fer yeh."

"Really?" Harry looked up at Hagrid, slightly excited. He couldn't imagine what Hagrid wanted to get him. The large man handed over a crudely wrapped present.

As Harry unwrapped it, Hagrid began to explain.

"I sent off owls ter all yer parents' old friends, askin' fer photos. I knew yeh didn' have any."

It was a large, leather-covered book. Harry opened it and found it full of wizard photographs of his mother and father, smiling and waving up at him.

"I planned ter give yeh more, but I haven' gotten around ter askin' certain people yet."

Harry smiled up at Hagrid.

"It's perfect," he said. "I love it."

And love it he did. There was only one thing he wished for but he knew he probably wouldn't find it in the pages of the photo album. He was sure that there was no photo of 'S.' in the album.

The train ride back to London was peaceful. Harry spent most of his time with his Slytherin yearmates, chatting and laughing over memories they had of the school year.

"You should spend some time with us over the summer," Daphne Greengrass said to Harry. "I'm sure you would be glad to spend some time away from those Muggles."

Harry grimaced.

"Yeah," he said. "I'd look forward to getting away. Write to me?"

The girl nodded in affirmation.

"Don't let them walk all over you, Potter," Draco sneered. "Remember, you are a wizard."

Harry let out a small smirk.

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said in response. "I'm not going to tell them I'm not supposed to use magic during the summer. They'll be terrified."

Draco and his friends nodded approvingly.

As Harry got off the train and platform nine and three-quarters, he spotted the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon looked furious and purple. Aunt Petunia and Dudley were hidden behind him as much as possible, looking terrified. Harry let out a large grin. He was definitely going to have fun this summer. He was a Slytherin after all.


	10. Year 2: Part 1

Harry's summer overall was rather boring. At first it had been fun tormenting the Dursleys—especially Dudley—pretending to mutter spells under his breath and making odd references to magic but after a while it grew sort of dull. Sure, Harry could have come up with something else to do but there wasn't much he could do that would terrify his cousin without getting a frying pan aimed for his head or a screaming lecture from Uncle Vernon. By the time the middle of July rolled around, Harry wished that his relatives would just treat him like any other boy or that he was someplace where his skills would be considered normal—Hogwarts.

All summer, Harry had been hoping to hear something from the people at Hogwarts. He just wanted to hear something. He didn't care how long it was or who it was from. At this point, Harry would have gladly even taken a letter from Draco Malfoy that insulted him, just to know that he hadn't been forgotten or that Hogwarts hadn't been just a dream.

Of course, the thing Harry wanted most of all was to receive a letter from 'S.' He hadn't received as much contact from the man during his first year at Hogwarts but reflecting back on it, it sort of made sense. One of Voldemort's supporters had been at Hogwarts the entire year, watching and waiting for the opportunity to bring his master back. Luckily he had been stopped in time, but Harry wasn't sure what would have happened if his secret had gotten out. He didn't want to potentially put his father in danger.

The morning of Harry's birthday, Harry was thinking of a way to sneak his books and school materials out of the cupboard under the stairs and into his room so he could work on his summer homework. It wouldn't be acceptable for him to go back to Hogwarts with nothing done. He was in Slytherin after all, and Slytherins never got behind on their homework. Otherwise they would answer to Professor Snape and that was something that no one wanted.

Any other boy would have been wondering what kind of presents they would receive or where their family would take them. Not Harry. Harry didn't even expect the Dursleys to remember his birthday. At breakfast, he was proven right. The Dursleys hadn't even given his birthday a thought. Instead, they were preoccupied with Uncle Vernon's dinner party. Harry wouldn't even be there. He would just be lying on his bed in his room, wishing that he had something to do—even his summer homework.

Harry spent the day reluctantly helping his aunt with the cleaning. Dudley didn't help at all, but that was nothing new to the young wizard. Dudley had never worked a day in his life. By fifteen minutes to eight, Harry had finished his chores and dinner and had been sent to his room. He could faintly hear the sounds of the dinner party he wasn't allowed to go to but Harry blocked it out. He was well accustomed to tuning out his relatives' voices.

Harry lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he attempted to fall asleep. There was nothing better he could be doing so it was really his only option. He had almost succeeded in dozing off when there was a loud crack. Harry bolted upright and stared at the foot of his bed where there was a house-elf standing and looking at him.

"Who are you?" he whispered, startled.

"Harry Potter!" the creature's high-pitched voice made Harry cringed. He had forgotten how much their voices could carry. "Such an honor it is to meet you! I is Dobby, sir, Dobby the house-elf."

"Are you one of the ones that work at Hogwarts?" Harry asked. Dobby shook his head, ears flapping as he did so.

"No sir but Dobby has come to tell you something, sir. Dobby wonders where to begin..."

Harry waited for Dobby to continue. He didn't want to say anything because he knew how high-strung house-elves could be. If he said the wrong thing, he could set Dobby off and bring Uncle Vernon charging up here. After a few minutes of Dobby looking around nervously and twisting his small hands, Dobby finally continued.

"Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said. "Dobby must warn Harry Potter, even though he has to shut his ears in the oven door. Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!"

Harry stared at Dobby blankly.

"What?" he asked.

"Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter!" Dobby squeaked. "Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts! He will be in mortal danger!"

"I was in mortal danger last year, too," Harry said dryly. "If you didn't hear, one of my professors had Vol—" Harry corrected himself before he could finish the name. "You-Know-Who on the back of his head the entire year."

"But there is a plot!" Dobby protested. "A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts this year! Harry Potter must not be himself in peril!"

"What terrible things?" Harry asked. "Don't tell me it has something to do with You-Know-Who does it?" Harry hoped that it didn't. He wasn't sure if he could take a second year of Voldemort threatening the school.

Dobby shook his head slowly.

"Anyone I know?" Harry asked before Dobby could do something drastic. Dobby nodded and looked around wildly. Harry grabbed the little elf by the dirty pillowcase he was wearing to prevent Dobby from doing anything extreme. The green-eyed boy held back a groan. He looked Dobby directly in the eye.

"If I don't know who it is, then I can't do anything about it," he told the house-elf firmly. "And I'm going to Hogwarts no matter what. I have friends there!" Not to mention family.

"Friends that don't even  _write_ to Harry Potter?" Dobby asked. Harry stiffened and he stared down at the house-elf.

"How do  _you_  know that?" he demanded.

Dobby started to struggle to get out of Harry's grip. Anger flashed in Harry's eyes.

"Have you been keeping my letters from me?" Harry asked, keeping a firm grip on Dobby's pillowcase.

"Dobby has them here, sir," Dobby said, pulling envelopes out of his pillowcase. "Dobby thought if Harry Potter had thought his friends had forgotten him, he might not want to go back to school, sir…"

Harry looked at the pile of envelopes in Dobby's small hands. He immediately recognized Hagrid's scribble, Pansy's neat handwriting, and Blaine's intricate cursive. He snatched the letters out of Dobby's hand and released the house-elf.

"That's the craziest idea ever!" he informed the elf. "Nothing can stop me from going back to Hogwarts!"

"Then Harry Potter gives Dobby no choice," Dobby said sadly. Then, Dobby darted out of the bedroom and sprinted down the stairs. Harry shoved the letters into his pocket and dashed off after Dobby. He had already determined that the house-elf was crazy. He had no idea what the creature was planning but he knew that it would end up awful for him.

Harry stopped as he saw Dobby sprinting down the stairs. He was now certain that whatever Dobby was doing would turn out horrible for him. The best thing he could do was stay upstairs and hope that the Dursleys wouldn't be too furious. He would hope that they wouldn't be mad at all when they realized he hadn't done anything but he wasn't delusional. If anything abnormal happened, he would automatically be blamed. That's how it had been for the past twelve years.

Harry retreated to his room. He was closing the door when he heard a large crash and a shrill shriek. He winced. He hoped that Dobby hadn't destroyed Aunt Petunia's pudding.

The black-haired boy fell face forward on to his bed. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, it would convince the Dursleys that he wasn't responsible.

A couple minutes later, there was another shriek. Harry's eyes snapped open but he didn't move. A feeling of dread crept into his stomach. What else had Dobby done?

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon's voice raged up the stairs minute later. "Boy, get down here  _now!_ "

Harry's first instinct was to obey but that wouldn't go along with his pretend-to-be-asleep plan.

When it became obvious that Harry wasn't going to come down the stairs, Uncle Vernon decided to come up. Harry could hear his loud thundering steps as clear as day.

Uncle Vernon burst through Harry's door and pulled Harry up by his arm. Harry blinked, trying to act like he had just been forcibly woken up.

Uncle Vernon thrust a letter in Harry's face.

"Read it," he hissed.

Harry shakily read the letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine._

_As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C.)_

_We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy._

_Enjoy your holidays!_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Improper Use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic_

"You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic," Uncle Vernon hissed. Harry stared at his Uncle. Did he really just say the 'M' word?

Uncle Vernon was grinning like a maniac, acting like Christmas had come early.

"Forgot to mention it, I suppose?" he said, baring all his teeth. "Well, guess what boy. I'm locking you up for this and you're never going back to that—that place!"

Harry gulped. He had never been this terrified of his uncle before. The scariest thing about this entire thing was that he knew that Uncle Vernon would do whatever it took to make sure that it came true.

The next morning, Uncle Vernon stayed home from work and fitted a cat flap on Harry's door. He also made sure that bars were fitted on Harry's window and that numerous locks were installed on Harry's door. Harry could only look on, utterly helpless. He was certain he would never step outside the house again.

A week later, Harry had resigned himself to his fate. Except to go to the bathroom, his aunt and uncle never allowed him outside his room. Dudley would taunt him through the door, creating the situation even more miserable for Harry. Dudley seemed to be doing whatever he could to get back at Harry for what Harry had done earlier in the summer.

Harry didn't know what to do. He couldn't magic himself out because then he would be expelled and then he might never get to know who 'S' really was. But then, he also couldn't stay in his current situation. The Dursleys were barely feeding him enough to survive and half of what they gave him went to Hedwig. Day after day, Harry would stare at the sinking sun miserably, wondering if there was any way he would be able to get out of this place.

Harry was fiddling with a broken off piece of one of Dudley's old toys when it came to him. Dudley had gone into a phase a few years back where he had been obsessed with police and catching criminals. For his birthday, his parents had given him a pair of handcuffs, which Dudley had promptly clapped on Harry. Harry had been attached to the fence in the Dursley's yard for three hours before Aunt Petunia had needed Harry to do some chores and sent Uncle Vernon out to retrieve Harry. Dudley had lost the key, so Uncle Vernon had been forced to pick the lock.

Harry knew that he had no hope of picking all the locks on his door without alerting one of the Dursleys to what he was doing but there was one lock that they couldn't monitor—the lock on Hedwig's cage. By now, Hedwig was skinny enough that she could probably squeeze through the bars on Harry's window and bring a note to someone once he had picked it.

The best thing about this entire plan was that Harry didn't have to use any magic at all.

Harry turned the room upside down, looking for something that he could use to jiggle the lock. It was a simple padlock so it shouldn't be that hard to open up. The closest thing Harry found that could work was a bent paperclip. The twelve-year-old examined it closely before he went to work on the lock attached to Hedwig's cage.

It took Harry the better part of the day to open the lock. He had started working on it after Aunt Petunia had served him breakfast (dry cereal today) and was still working on unlatching it when the sun started to go down. As the sky got darker, Harry became jumpier. Anytime now, Uncle Vernon would come and let him out for his nightly trip to the bathroom.

The paperclip went flying as Harry heard one of the bolts on his door being unlocked. Harry kicked the paperclip under the bed and sat on his bed. Uncle Vernon gave Harry a suspicious look as he opened the door but said nothing. Within ten minutes, Harry had gone to the bathroom, been locked back up in his room, and was once again working on the lock. He had to be close.

The green-eyed boy heard a small click and the padlock slid open around an hour later. Harry had to restrain himself from whooping in joy.

The letter Harry had written over his lunch was sitting next to Hedwig's cage. Harry grabbed it and deftly tied it to Hedwig's leg as he removed the padlock from the cage.

"Take it to whoever can help me," he whispered. He brought Hedwig over to the window and watched her slip through the bars. It pained him to watch how easy it was for her. Soon she was flying off into the night sky, free for the first time all summer.

After Hedwig had left, Harry settled down to fall asleep. He wasn't sure how long it took him to fall asleep but once he did, he wished he had stayed awake.

It was the oddest nightmare that Harry ever had. Harry was locked in Hedwig's cage and every person he knew, both from primary school and from Hogwarts, goggled at him. Harry tried to scream at Professor Dumbledore for help but the only thing that was coming out of his mouth was owl-like screeches. Harry felt himself shrinking and looked down to see his entire body coated with feathers. The most traumatizing thing was that he was sitting on a nest with eggs.

Harry sat up with a gasp and looked over at the time. It was just after two in the morning. With a groan, Harry lay back down and tried to fall back asleep. He hoped help arrived soon.

Severus Snape was sitting by his fireplace at his home on Spinner's End, reviewing some of the notes he had made about a recent potion he had attempted. As he made adjustments and corrections, he sipped a cup of Earl Gray tea, relishing in the bergamot taste. He favored a special blend where the bergamot could be clearly tasted and often drank it without adding in milk.

The Potions professor was in the middle of making a note about the stirring of the potion when there was a sharp rap on the window. Professor Snape ignored it. It was probably just a stick falling from the tree that hung over his house.

He was crossing the final 't' of his notes about stirring when the rap came again. Black eyes snapped over to the window and spotted a white owl. It contrasted greatly against the black sky.

With a sigh, the man stood and approached the window, cursing the fact that he had to leave his spot next to the warm fireplace. Severus opened the window to let the owl in. It swept in and perched on top of his armchair, hooting at him. The Potions teacher removed its letter, making note of how skinny the owl was and how exhausted it seemed to be. Clearly its owner didn't take very good care of it.

Unfolding the letter, Severus Snape recognized the handwriting instantly.

_To him or her reading this letter,_

_I shall not be boarding the train on September 1_ _st_ _unless someone helps me. The Dursleys have locked me in my room, with no way out. I am only allowed out twice a day and that is for less than ten minutes to use the facilities. If someone would retrieve me, I would be much obliged._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

Professor Snape read the letter three times before he let out a curse. He tossed the letter on to his armchair. Now that he read the letter, he recognized the owl as Potter's. Of course the boy would get into a mess like this. From what he remembered of Petunia Evans, she was a bitter, jealous woman that didn't forgive easily. He wouldn't be surprised if she had married someone even sourer than her.

Professor Snape grabbed the notes he had been working on and slipped them back onto his bookshelf. Once they were safely put away he grabbed his cloak from the coat rack sitting beside, slipped on some shoes, and swept out the door.

He had to save his son.


	11. Year 2: Part 2

A sharp knock on the door late at night went unheard by the sleeping Dursleys. Harry, however, faintly heard it and his heart began to race. Who would be here so late at night? The boy swung his legs over the side of the bed and padded quietly to the window. He placed his head against the bars in order to get some sort of view of whomever was visiting the house at this late hour but it was all in vain. The bars prevented him from seeing the front of the house and anything that went on below the windowsill.

The knock came again, this time sharper and louder. From down the hall, Harry heard Uncle Vernon's snores stop for a few seconds before starting up again. Harry sighed. It seemed like his uncle wasn't going to be waking up to greet their visitor. He would have gladly gone in his uncle's stead but he was locked in his room.

A third knock came and this time, there was no way his uncle would be able to sleep through the pounding on the door. Harry, ear pressed against the door, could hear his uncle finally wake up and lumber out of his room. The hallway light clicked on and Harry listened to his uncle's heavy footsteps traipse down the stairs. His aunt's lighter footsteps followed a few seconds afterwards.

"Who on earth would be here at this hour?" Uncle Vernon grumbled loudly as he approached the door. "Have they no common sense? Most people are asleep at this time at night!"

"Vernon!" Aunt Petunia hissed. "You don't suppose that it's…" she trailed off, eyes flickering upstairs before continuing. "You don't suppose that it's  _his kind_ , do you?"

Uncle Vernon's face turned red at the mere thought of one of those freaks invading his home. He wouldn't allow it.

"If it is, they better not be expecting anything," he muttered darkly. "I won't give them anything they ask for. It's bad enough we have to house and feed the boy."

Uncle Vernon unlatched the front door and yanked it open. He glowered at the man on the other side of the doorstep. Just from appearances, the man screamed that he was a freak just like the boy.

"Vernon Dursley?" the man inquired coldly. "Might I come in?"

"No, you may not," Mr. Dursley snapped. "We don't want your kind around here, especially at this late hour. Go back to where you came from!"

Mr. Dursley was about to slam the door in the man's face but to his great surprise, the door wouldn't budge. The man sneered at the large Muggle.

"It would be in your best interest to let me through," he informed the obese man. "Otherwise, you might not like the way things turn out."

"Are you threatening me?" Uncle Vernon demanded. Severus Snape gave the man another cold look.

"Last year, due to your insults, your son became the owner of a pig's tail, am I correct?" he asked. Vernon and Petunia Dursley's eyes widened. "I won't be as lenient as Hagrid was. As you see…" Professor Snape trailed off and looked at his surroundings. "I'm much more powerful than that man could ever be."

Upon his words, the Dursleys were shocked enough that the Potions professor was easily able to push his way into the house. He looked around, examining the house. From first appearances, it looked too clean, too perfect, too cold. It was no sort of home environment, in his opinion, but he knew that many of his Slytherins lived in similar, albeit much grander, environments.

"I am here to retrieve Mr. Potter," he informed the Dursleys coolly. "He'll be staying elsewhere for the rest of this summer as I have been informed that he is not living in the best of conditions currently."

"Listen here," Vernon Dursley began hotly. "I don't know what sort of lies your source has been telling you, but the boy is living in perfect conditions. He's fed three times a day and has his own room—"

"Of which he is only allowed out of twice per day to use the bathroom," Professor Snape finished. "At all other times he is locked in and there are bars on his windows, which I have seen for myself firsthand. I can assure you that my source has been telling me nothing but the truth."

"Oh, just let him take the boy, Vernon," Aunt Petunia spoke up for the first time since the front door had opened. "If he's willing to take him out of our hands for the rest of the summer, I say we let him."

"Yes, listen to your wife, Dursley," Severus remarked snidely. "You won't like what will happen if you try to refuse."

Vernon Dursley glared at the man as he tried to decide what to do. It pained him when he realized that he didn't really have any other options beside to do what the man was asking.

"I'll go get the boy," he grumbled reluctantly and went to do exactly that.

Harry jumped away from the door as he heard Uncle Vernon approaching. He didn't have enough time to make it to the bed and pretend to be asleep, so Harry tried to look innocent as his uncle unlocked the door. The man glared at him and that glare became even more frightening as Vernon Dursley noticed that the owl was out of its cage and nowhere to be seen.

"I don't know how you did it," he hissed. "But you're going to regret it. Be thankful that we don't have to put up with you for the rest of the summer."

Harry swallowed and gave a tiny nod, quivering under his uncle's hateful look.

"Grab your things," Uncle Vernon ordered. "I want you out of here as quickly as possible."

Harry obeyed and quickly threw his clothes in a bag. He closed the bag and grabbed Hedwig's cage before looking at his uncle, who stomped away. Harry followed.

Downstairs, Professor Snape was still critically eying the house as if he wasn't pleased to be in such a place.

"And his belongings?" Professor Snape inquired. He doubted that the Dursleys would allow Harry to remain close to his belongings. Petunia Dursley made a face and she unlocked the cupboard under the stairs.

"It's all there," she said in a snippy voice. Professor Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Petunia, have you been preventing the boy from doing his summer homework?" he asked. The horse-like woman glared at him.

"It's no concern of ours whether or not he completes his work for  _that_  school," she spat. "We won't allow any of it to happen in our house."

Her glare was met by an icy look from the professor. He wasn't pleased about her comments. He couldn't imagine how Harry had survived growing up in a household like this. It reminded him much of his own childhood. He, too, had been unwanted.

Footsteps that reminded him of elephant steps drew the Potions professor's attention to the steps. Uncle Vernon was coming down the steps, followed by a nervous-looking Harry who was carrying an empty owl cage. The boy looked thinner than he had at the beginning of summer, a clear sign that the Dursleys had been neglecting him. Severus Snape pursed his lips.

"Professor!" Harry looked shocked to see him. The dark-haired man inclined his head.

"Mr. Potter," he greeted the boy. "You'll be coming with me. Are you ready to go?"

"I just need to grab my trunk," Harry said softly. Professor Snape waved his wand and the trunk began to levitate.

"It will follow," he said stiffly. "Let's go."

Professor Snape didn't wait for a reply. He turned on his heel and moved swiftly out of the house and into the cool night air. Harry followed quickly, his trunk trailing behind him. Neither spared a word for the furious Dursleys.

"Where are we going, Professor?" Harry asked as he followed the professor.

"You'll stay with me for the night and tomorrow I'll arrange for a family that you can stay with for the rest of the summer. If there is none, you can spend the rest of the summer holidays at Hogwarts," Professor Snape replied.

"Can't I stay with you, Professor?" Harry asked, his heart sinking. He had hoped he could spend some more time with the older man, to try and find out if the Professor was truly 'S.'

It was a while before the Potions master replied.

"My home would not be the best place for you to stay. You should be with someone your own age to keep you occupied. I will be busy with work for most of the days and evenings." Also, some of the people that frequented his house weren't fans of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. They would surely attack the boy and he couldn't have that.

"But Professor, I would rather stay with you," Harry protested. "I know you and I don't know anyone I would stay with."

"I would arrange it so that you would be staying with one of your yearmates," Professor Snape assured the boy. "So you would certainly know someone. Believe me when I say that it would be in your best interest to stay elsewhere for the summer."

Harry didn't reply. He didn't know how to respond. He didn't want to stay anywhere else but he doubted that he would be able to.

Reaching the corner of the street, Professor Snape held out his wand arm. A brief second later, a purple bus was abruptly slamming to a halt in front of them.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus," the driver greeted them as they stepped onto the bus. "Where are you heading?"

"Spinner's End," Professor Snape supplied, passing over the required money for passage. Once the ticket stubs were in his hand, he led Harry to the back of the bus where it was normally the calmest. Once Harry was seated on a bed, he gave the boy an appraising look.

"Tell me how this situation came about," he ordered gently. Harry was happy to explain about Dobby and his warning. He was glad to hand over the information to someone who could actually do something about it and relieve his worries.

Professor Snape was silent for a few minutes after Harry had finished this story.

"I have not heard about any plans," he informed the boy. "But I shall keep an eye out for odd happenings. It won't be like last year, where Quirrell remained undetected for a large majority of the term."

"So there won't be any risk?" Harry asked. Professor Snape sighed.

"There is always some risk to life," he told the younger boy, "but none that I can see as of right now. However, I'll make sure that the staff is made aware of the potential danger."

The rest of the bus ride remained relatively quiet, due largely to the fact that riding on the bus made Harry nauseous. The abrupt changes in direction and lanes and the sudden stops were enough to make even the strongest stomach weak. Even the Potions professor was relieved when, three stops later, they had arrived at Spinner's End.

Harry looked at the house the pair approached curiously. It didn't look like the place he had imagined the professor to live in. He had imagined something much grander. Something akin to a mansion. Then again, he supposed, the professor only needed a place to stay in during the summer. The rest of the year he lived at Hogwarts, always on hand if one of his students ever needed him.

The inside of the house was quaint. It didn't look like it was used much but it was much more homier than Number 4, Privet Drive.

"It's very late," Professor Snape said once Harry had set his stuff down. "You should get some sleep while it's still dark out."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied as he followed the professor who was leading the way to the room he would stay in. "What time should I be up in the morning?"

"Sleep as late as you want," Professor Snape answered. "I don't expect to have word from your classmates' families until the afternoon."

Severus opened the door to the guest room of the small house. It was slightly dusty from lack of use but useable for the night. If it ended up that Harry would have to stay longer, the Potions master would clean it after the boy was awake.

"Good night, Mr. Potter," the professor said, inclining his head. He was closing the door when Harry stopped him with a quiet,

"Sir?"

The dark-haired man looked over his shoulder. Harry continued on with his question.

"Do you know whom Dobby serves?" he asked.

"No, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said. "I don't pay attention to house-elves that work outside of Hogwarts. There's none that work here so I never had to."

"Of course, sir," Harry replied. "Good night."

Severus Snape left the door partially open and walked silently down the hall to his study. There was a stack of parchment on the corner of his desk and Severus took the top sheet and placed it in front of him. He had a few long hours in front of him and it had already been a long night.

Professor Snape stared down at the parchment as he tried to figure out whom to pen the letter to. He had to find the best family for Harry to spend the rest of the summer with. It was too risky to send the boy to a family that had publicly pledged their allegiance to the Dark Lord. Even though the boy had been Sorted into Slytherin and rumors had spread that he could be the next Dark Lord, Harry Potter was still the Boy-Who-Lived, someone who had defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort when he had been merely a baby. There were bound to be some families that held grudges still to this day. Pureblooded witches and wizards weren't well known for being forgiving.

The Malfoy family was out then. Harry and Draco weren't particularly close anyway. The same went for the Crabbe and Goyle families. He could also cross off the Nott family. That left the Parkinson family, the Bulstrode family, the Davis family, the Zabini family, and the Greengrass family. Severus knew that Harry was closer to Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and Daphne Greengrass than he was to Millicent Bulstrode and Tracey Davis but he was hesitant about sending the boy to those families. He wasn't completely sure if he could trust any of them. Especially the Zabini matriarch. Too many of her husbands had died for him to ever trust the woman. She was too opportunistic. He wouldn't place his son in her hands.

Yes, the Zabini family could be crossed off as well.

For nearly an hour, the professor struggled with whom to choose. He had crossed off the Parkinson family and the Greengrass family as he didn't want Harry to deal with the pressures of staying with a pureblooded family. They were too visible in society and Professor Snape wanted Harry's presence to be relatively unknown in the wizarding world, at least for a bit longer. After a bit of delay, Professor Snape had chosen the Davis family as his choice. Tracey Davis was bright enough and she had a Muggleborn father and a half-blood mother. They wouldn't have the same prejudices that purebloods had. They also lived out in the country, not in a wizarding community, so his son wouldn't be under constant scrutiny. However, even though they lived out in the country, they lived close enough that it wouldn't be a far journey for Severus to deliver Harry. The owl would be there in a matter of hours once his letter was finished and the professor would have an answer by the end of the evening, depending on how they chose to respond.

Yes, the Davis family would do nicely.

Once the decision was made, Severus Snape dipped his quill in the black ink and began to pen his letter.

_To Mr. and Mrs. Davis,_

_I find myself in the unusual predicament of needing to find a home for one of my students for the rest of the summer holidays. He is in need of not only a quiet place to stay but also a place where I am sure he will be looked after and cared for, regardless of his past. He is also in Ms. Tracey Davis' year at Hogwarts and is acquainted with her. I am sure that it is in his best interest that he spends time with someone he is familiar with and with someone of his own age._

_Therefore, I must request that you take Mr. Harry Potter into your home for the remainder of the summer holidays. You will be duly compensated for doing so and I will rest assured that he is in a good home._

_Please respond in whatever way is most convenient for you. I await your reply._

_Severus Snape_

Harry's owl, Hedwig, hooted quietly as she eyed the professor placing the piece of parchment within an envelope and sealing it. She hopped closer to the man, hoping to be chosen to take the letter to its destination.

Professor Snape nodded at the owl's actions and approached her. He held out the letter and Hedwig took it with her talons.

"As quickly as possible," he told her. Hedwig let out another hoot before taking off into the air. In a matter of flaps, she was out of the house and disappearing into the slowly brightening sky.

Staring at the sky, the Potions professor sighed to himself. It was nearly morning and he couldn't sleep in. There were too many things to do. He would just have to remain awake and sleep once this whole situation had been dealt with.

Therefore, instead of going to bed, the professor made sure that he had enough food for two people for the day and then went back to reviewing the notes he had made about the potions he had been working on. His plans had been to travel to Hogwarts once he was satisfied and try out his ideas but that would have to be put off until he was sure Harry was safe at the Davis' house. His son would come first.

Harry didn't wake up until mid-morning. Once he did, he stared at the guest room for a long while. He couldn't believe that he was free of the Dursleys for the rest of the summer. He had nearly given up hope of ever going back to Hogwarts after the whole Dobby fiasco. Yet, here he was, in his Head of House's home, free from the Dursleys.

Thinking of the professor, Harry wondered whom Professor Snape would ask him to stay with. He only had a limited number of yearmates that he  _could_  stay with. If he remembered correctly, Blaise and Daphne would be abroad for most of the summer and he expected Draco and Pansy to be as well. He had been jealous at the time, having never been outside of Surrey, London, and Hogwarts.

Finally, nature called and Harry couldn't stay in bed any longer. It only took him a few minutes to get ready for the day. After so many months of not wearing anything but Dudley's hand-me-downs, it felt strange to wear robes once again.

Forgoing his shoes, Harry attempted to find his way to the professor. However, it was more difficult than he thought, as he hadn't been in the house before and had no idea of which room Professor Snape normally resided in.

Professor Snape spotted Harry through his open door. He had left it open just for that reason.

"In here, Mr. Potter," he called quietly. Harry turned to face him and looked at the professor nervously.

"Good morning, Professor," he greeted the dark-haired man. Professor Snape inclined his head.

"Good morning," he replied. "Did you sleep well?"

Harry nodded.

"Good," Professor Snape said and stood up. "Then I believe that breakfast is the next thing on our list."

Harry followed the man to the small kitchen.

"Whom will I be staying with, sir?" he asked. Professor Snape gave him an indiscernible look.

"I am waiting for the Davis family to reply," he said. "I sent the letter out a few hours ago and should be receiving their reply fairly soon."

"Tracey's family?" Harry asked. Severus nodded and began to make breakfast for the two of them. Harry was left to his thoughts.

He really hadn't expected to be staying with Tracey and her family. He had assumed that he would be staying with someone who knew a bit better. Then again, most of those people were abroad or traveling, so Harry was left with limited options. He wouldn't complain, though. Tracey was nice enough, though a bit on the quiet side, and he would be grateful if her family gave him a place to stay for the last month of summer.

Breakfast was relatively simple, just scrambled eggs and toast, but it was better than the cold soup Harry had been accustomed to. Their meal was interrupted by a call from the fireplace when Harry was nearly done.

"Professor Snape?" a voice called. The Potions master abandoned his meal to answer the call.

"Mrs. Davis," he greeted the woman. Harry peeked into the room and was startled to see a head in the fireplace. It was such a strange sight!

"We got your letter," Mrs. Davis said. "We would be happy to have the boy stay with us. We have the room and Tracey has wanted to catch up with her classmates. Bring the boy over whenever you're ready and we'll be waiting."

"Thank you, Mrs. Davis, for doing so. It's a relief that I can rely on you," Severus Snape thanked. The woman laughed.

"It's what we do, Professor Snape. We'll always be willing to help out a fellow Slytherin."


	12. Year 2: Part 3

Tracey Davis' home was different than Harry had expected it to be. On the outside, it looked like any normal Muggle house and no one would ever know that a family of wizards and witches lived inside. The interior of the house, however, was another matter entirely. The photographs on the walls and on the counters moved, much like the pictures at Hogwarts. The mirrors talked and grumbled about Harry's unmanageable hair. The dishes washed themselves and stacked themselves neatly once they were dry. For the first few days of his stay at the Davis', Harry found himself being constantly amazed at the blatant use of magic in everyday work.

The Davis' were a decent family, Harry also discovered. Mrs. Davis promptly tried to mother Harry, making sure he had enough to eat at mealtimes and that he was keeping busy. For the first couple of days, she ensured that Harry was getting caught up with his summer homework. Tracey was a great help as Harry attempted to do his homework since she had finished hers in the first weeks of summer. Mr. Davis was bookish like Tracey but he also encouraged the kids to spend time outside everyday and to be active. Tracey was already an adept flyer, as it was one of the most common activities she did with her father, but Mr. Davis had a hard time getting Harry to even get on a broomstick. Harry still hadn't gotten over his dislike of broomsticks and flying.

Nearly a week after Harry had arrived at the Davis', his summer at the Dursley's a faint bad memory by now, an owl arrived from Hogwarts. Harry had nearly finished his second helping of porridge when the large tawny owl swooped in through the open window. It was holding two envelopes that had been addressed in green ink. Tracey smiled brightly as her parents handed her and Harry their respective envelopes. She had been looking forward to her letter since she had grown bored of being on summer vacation.

The younger two magic-users tore into the eagerly awaited envelopes, much to the amusement of Mr. and Mrs. Davis. Harry's eyes scanned his letter quickly. The Hogwarts Express would be leaving on September 1st from King's Cross Station at eleven o'clock. Attached to the letter was a list of the new materials he would need for the year.

 _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_  by Miranda Goshawk

 _Break with a Banshee_  by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Gadding with Ghouls_  by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Holiday with Hags_  by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Travels with Trolls_  by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Voyages with Vampires_  by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Wanderings with Werewolves_  by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Year with the Yeti_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

It was interesting that the majority of the new books were all by the same author. Harry had never even heard of Gilderoy Lockhart so he could only hope that he was a decent writer. Tracey read the same list with a grimace upon her face.

"Ugh," she groaned. "It looks like the new professor is a fan. If Professor Snape taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, he'd make sure that we had decent study materials, not fantasy novels."

Tracey tossed the list on the table.

"Yeah, but if Professor Snape taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, we might have a Potions teacher that had no clue what they were doing," Harry pointed out. "Can you imagine if Quirrell taught Potions last year?"

Tracey laughed at the image. That would have been a disaster.

"Oh, I don't know," she disagreed. "Dumbledore would probably invite Slughorn back. He was a decent Potions teacher, I've heard, though I also heard he showed a lot of favoritism."

Mr. Davis made a face.

"He did," he grumbled. "The Slug Club, they called it. He had a knack for discovering those that would do well later on but it made the rest of the students jealous."

"When are we going to Diagon Alley, Mum?" Tracey asked. Mrs. Davis shared a look with her husband.

"Your father has the day off on Wednesday," she said. "We can go then. I imagine it will be busy, though, since most of your classmates will need to get their materials as well. I believe Flourish and Blotts has a signing going on, as well."

"Ooh," Tracey squealed. "I wonder which author will be there. I hope it's someone good!"

Harry laughed.

"I thought you said the other day that all the good authors were dead," he teased. Tracey playfully glared at him.

"Oh, hush, you," she retorted. "I just hope it isn't that Lockhart guy. Flourish and Blotts will be crazy with all those witches trying to crowd in."

* * *

Wednesday, once Harry and Tracey were awake and had a decent-sized breakfast, Mr. and Mrs. Davis ushered the children to the doorway.

"We'll be apparating to the Alley," Mr. Davis announced. Harry grimaced. He had apparated once already, when Mrs. Davis had come to pick up Harry from Spinner's End and didn't have the fondest memories of the incident. It was an uncomfortable feeling and it had taken Harry nearly an hour to fully recover from the apparation.

Tracey held on to her mother's arm and Harry tentatively grabbed Mr. Davis' arm. The man gave him an encouraging smile before Harry had the sensation of being sucked through a tight tube.

As the group landed on a side street of Diagon Alley, Harry stumbled and would have fallen if it hadn't been for Mr. Davis gripping his elbow. His stomach churned and Harry doubled over. It was a few minutes before his stomach settled and his head stopped spinning. Once the feeling of nausea passed, Harry stood up straight.

"Doing okay?" Mrs. Davis asked. "Otherwise, I'm sure there's something at the Apothecary. Apparating takes a while to get used to, I know."

"I'm fine," Harry assured her. "Where are we going to first?"

"Gringotts," Mr. Davis announced, looking over to where the group could see the large, white marble building. "Come along now. We should try to get our shopping done by dinner time."

Tracey and Harry followed Tracey's parents, who walked rather quickly. From the way they navigated the alley, it was clear that the family had been here many times. Harry still had the urge to look around in wonder but it was nowhere near as strong as it had been this time last year. The original novelty of it all had worn off during the year Harry had spent at Hogwarts.

As they made their way to Gringotts, Harry recognized a few students he knew. Most of them were older students but there were a few in his and Tracey's year, including the Gryffindors Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, Hufflepuff Hannah Abbott, and from Slytherin house, Draco Malfoy. Harry had yet to spot any Ravenclaws. Perhaps they were clever and either came very early or were waiting until the Alley became less crowded.

The trip down to the vaults at Gringotts was very quick and Harry reminded how much he enjoyed the ride down to the vaults. It was just like he had remembered. After Gringotts, Mr. and Mrs. Davis led the two off to the stores along the street, eager to get all the shopping out of the way. Harry and Tracey had no opportunity to wander off by themselves.

"They don't want us going somewhere we shouldn't," Tracey explained under her breath. "Like Knockturn Alley. They're so boring. While you were getting new robes from Madam Malkin's, I ran into Draco who was bragging about his adventures in Knockturn Alley." The twelve-year-old girl sighed wistfully. "He's so lucky. And brave."

Harry hid his grimace. Great, yet another girl crushing on Draco Malfoy. He didn't know what Pansy, Daphne, and now Tracey saw in the boy. Plus, it was so annoying to listen to their daydreams.

"Last stop is Flourish and Blotts," Mrs. Davis announced nearly an hour later. "Come on, let's get that done so we can get some ice cream from Fortescue's." Nothing more needed to be said. Tracey and Harry were already racing toward the bookstore. There was a large crowd outside the store, presumably for the signing Tracey had mentioned earlier in the week. Tracey gave a disgusted look at all the woman crowding inside and gestured to the banner hanging above the windows.

"Of course it would be Lockhart," she grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Of course."

Tracey tugged on Harry's arm and led him along the back wall, where there was some more room. It wasn't much but there was more space than there was at the front of the shop.

It didn't take long to get all the books they needed, since all of Lockhart's books were set out on tables and the rest of their Hogwarts books were in the section labeled:  _Texts for Hogwarts._ Once they grabbed their books, the Davis family and Harry merged into the long line leading to the counter. The closer they got to the counter, the closer to the front of the store they got, which meant they were also getting closer to the signing. Harry shifted nervously. He didn't like the large crowd. It was making him uncomfortable.

Noticing his discomfort, Mrs. Davis laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Why don't you and Zach go on ahead? Me and Tracey will get the books."

Harry couldn't leave fast enough. He didn't bother waiting for Mr. Davis to follow. He just wanted to get out of the insanely busy bookstore. He was just at the entrance when a loud announcement made him stop in his tracks.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a man at the front of the store was saying, "This is the perfect moment to make a little announcement I've been wanting to share for some time. I have great pleasure and pride to announce that I, Gilderoy Lockhart, will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

Harry and Mr. Davis traded amused but resigned looks. Tracey would be complaining nonstop until they left for school, most likely. Harry would bet that she would continue complaining even after that. He would most likely never hear the end of it.

"I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those," Harry recognized the drawling voice at once and turned slightly. Draco Malfoy was facing off with Ronald Weasley, who was accompanied by Hermione Granger and someone who appeared to be his younger sister. Ron and his sister's faces were as red as their hair. Hermione gripped Ron by the back of his jacket, preventing the tall redhead from taking a swing at Malfoy.

Harry rolled his eyes. Typical Malfoy. He was ready to move on but things soon escalated into a full out fight. Not by the two boys, oh no. Rather, their fathers. Mr. Davis looked unhappy by the sight of two grown men brawling in broad daylight.

"Go wait outside," he ordered Harry before heading over to break the two of them up. The shop assistant flanked him. Harry obeyed, eager to get out of the way. That was one of the biggest reasons he hated crowds. All the pushing and shoving caused tempers to raise and fights often broke out over the most trivial of things.

A few minutes later, Mr. Davis emerged, straightening his robes. He looked disgruntled. Mrs. Davis and Tracey trailed him, a scowl upon Mrs. Davis's face.

"Honestly, Zachariah," she huffed. "You should have just left them."

"It was Lucius Malfoy, Catherine," Mr. Davis explained. "He's a Slytherin. Didn't you just say the other day that Slytherins protect each other? Beside, I was trying to break it up, not contribute."

"You could have gotten hurt," Mrs. Davis lectured. "Be lucky that they hadn't pulled wands on each other. You could have gotten in the way of a nasty curse."

Mr. Davis snorted at that.

"I was fine," he assured his wife and then changed the subject to prevent further arguments. "Let's head to Fortescue's."

Fortescue's was the most Muggle-like shop along Diagon Alley, in Harry's opinion. It looked like a classic ice cream parlor. Except for the moving photos and some of the more interesting ice cream flavors (cockroach clusters mixed with chocolate ice cream, ice cream that changed flavor with every bite), Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor seemed like it could fit in perfectly with the Muggle world. Harry munched happily on a hot chocolate sundae as they sat outside. Mrs. Davis still was hesitant to forgive Mr. Davis for the incident in Flourish and Blotts but eventually had to give in when he conjured up a bouquet of flowers. Tracey mimicked gagging when they weren't looking, causing Harry to laugh.

* * *

After the somewhat adventurous trip to Diagon Alley, summer came quickly to an end. Before he knew it, it was the night before Harry and Tracey were scheduled to catch the Hogwarts Express. Their clothes and school supplies were neatly packed in their trunks and Mrs. Davis created a dinner that comprised of all of their favorite foods. After dinner, there was another short apparation trip to Fortescue's for one last treat before they went to bed early.

Harry didn't get much sleep that night. He was too excited to be going back to Hogwarts. He had enjoyed his stay at Tracey's but he was ready to get back to the place he truly called home. He tossed and turned all night, getting up multiple times to check that everything was packed.

When Harry was called down for breakfast the following morning, Tracey looked just as tired as he felt. Catherine and Zachariah Davis traded amused looks. They remembered their years at Hogwarts and how eager they had been to go.

"We'll be apparating to King's Cross Station," Mr. Davis informed the younger two as they piled food on to their plates. "Unfortunately, we can't apparate right on to the platform so we have to go to an apparation point that has been set up. Hopefully we won't apparate at the same time as someone else and end up in a large pile. Muggles might notice. They did last year when the Longbottoms and Changs crashed into each other as they landed. Thankfully we had gotten there just a few minutes earlier."

Tracey snickered at the memory. It had been an amusing sight to see.

"Once you're finished, grab your things and we'll be off," Mrs. Davis told them. "The sooner we get there, the better chance you have at grabbing an empty compartment. You don't ever want to arrive right before the train leaves. I always remember it being pure chaos."

Harry agreed internally. He remembered it from last year. He had been so nervous that he was going to miss the train.

It was ten o'clock when they arrived at the train station. Harry still had bad side effects from apparating and was feeling queasy as they approached the barrier to platform nine and three quarters.

"Right then," Mr. Davis said. "In pairs?"

Mrs. Davis nodded. "It's easiest," she agreed. "You take Harry through first."

The two males nodded and stepped forward. Mr. Davis looked around to make sure that no Muggles were paying attention before urging Harry forward. The two stepped up to the barrier.

"Act like you're leaning against it and you'll just tumble through," Mr. Davis muttered to Harry. The black-haired boy nodded and tried to do just that. However, there was a slight issue.

The barrier wasn't letting him or Mr. Davis through. Instead, they felt like they were leaning against a solid wall. Zachariah Davis pulled away and eyed the wall curiously. He gestured his wife over.

"The barrier's closed," he whispered to her. She gave him an odd look and placed her hand against it. Almost immediately she drew it back upon feeling the solid wall.

"Why?" she asked her husband. "It doesn't close even after the train has left. What do we do?"

Harry and Tracey exchanged nervous looks. Would they not be able to get on the train?

"Let's wait a couple minutes and see if anyone else can get through," Mr. Davis suggested. "If we can't by quarter to, I'll apparate the kids to Hogsmeade and you return home and firecall one of the professors to inform them of the situation. I've never heard of this happening before."

Harry and the Davis family stepped back to wait. They watched various families get through for the next forty-five minutes with no problem whatsoever but whenever Harry and Mr. Davis stepped forward to try another time, they always met a solid wall. They must have tried eight or nine times with no success.

At ten forty-five, Catherine and Zachariah Davis gave the platform entrance one last odd look before deciding to follow through with their alternative plan.

"Try to get either Professor Dumbledore or Professor Snape," Mr. Davis told his wife as they made their way back to the apparation point. "I'll stay with the kids at the Hogsmeade Station until someone from the school comes and picks them up."

Mrs. Davis nodded and gave her husband a peck on the lips, despite the horrified and slightly disgusted look she received from Tracey. Then she was gone and Harry and Tracey were pulled with Mr. Davis as he apparated to Hogsmeade. The reaction afterwards was the mildest Harry had ever had. He still hated the feeling of apparating but was beginning to get used to it.

Once the increasingly familiar feeling of nausea passed, Harry looked around. He could see a village at the end of the station.

"Hogsmeade," Mr. Davis explained. "A village made up entirely of witches and wizards. It's the only one in Britain."

Harry's eyes widened. He had never even considered that there might be places that were made up entirely of wizarding kind, despite having visited Diagon Alley. Now that he knew, he wanted to go explore but doubted that he would be allowed to.

"Third years, if they have permission, get to visit the village," Tracey murmured to Harry. The green-eyed boy looked at the ground. He doubted he would gain permission.

"I'm sure Professor Snape will make special allowances in your case," Mr. Davis said carefully. "After all, it's not your fault your relatives are who they are."

They waited at the station for over an hour before they spotted a familiar figure making her way to the station.

"Professor McGonagall," Mr. Davis greeted the severe-looking woman. She nodded curtly.

"Your wife was able to make contact with Professor Dumbledore," she said. "However, the headmaster was indisposed and Professor Snape was brewing a volatile potion so they sent me to collect Ms. Davis and Mr. Potter."

She didn't look too happy. Tracey hugged her father goodbye.

"I'll see you at Christmas," she whispered, blinking away the tears that were beginning to form. Mr. Davis nodded and whispered something in her ear that made Tracey blush slightly. Then, the elder wizard straightened and his eyes locked with Harry's.

"It was a pleasure having you stay with us, Harry," he said, shaking Harry's hand. "Keep in touch."

Harry didn't know what to say so he just nodded. Then, Tracey and Harry gathered their things and turned to Professor McGonagall, who led the way to a waiting carriage. It wasn't until they were out of sight that Mr. Davis apparated back home to his waiting wife.

The carriage ride to the castle was quiet, but it was a welcome quiet.

"The house-elves will take your trunks to your dormitories," Professor McGonagall stated once they reached the magnificent castle. "It would be best if you unpacked and waited in your common room until the feat is about to start. The password is  _anguine_."

Then the deputy headmistress left them in the Great Hall. Tracey and Harry traded looks before wandering down to the dungeons. They waved to started portraits and called out a greeting to the Bloody Baron, who was drifting along one of the corridors near the dungeons.

Harry let out a huge grin as he stepped foot in the Slytherin common room for the first time in months. Nothing had changed. It was nice to be back.

After unpacking, Harry and Tracey passed the time playing Exploding Snap and Gobstones. Before they knew it, Professor Snape had come to collect them for the Welcoming Feast. He had timed it so the two could mingle easily and unnoticeable with the other students that had just arrived.

"Where were you?" Daphne Greengrass hissed as they sat down at the Slytherin table. "We looked for you on the train for ages. We thought you had missed it!"

"The barrier wouldn't let us through," Tracey explained. "My father had to apparate us to Hogsmeade. We tried for nearly an hour."

"Why were you and Harry together in the first place?" Pansy asked.

"I stayed with her for the last couple of weeks in summer," Harry explained. "Me and my relatives don't get on and Tracey's parents let me stay with them."

His explanation seemed to satisfy everyone but Draco Malfoy, who gave the pair a strange look before changing the subject to the first years that had been spotted on the train. Apparently Daphne's younger sister had joined their group on the train.

"Saw the Carrow twins briefly on the train," he also informed the group. "Tried to convince them to sit with us but they decided to stay in their compartment. They were talking to a boy named Harper something or other. I didn't recognize the family name but he's not Muggleborn. He was hoping to join Slytherin house."

Harry tuned out Malfoy as the first years began to file in. They looked so timid and dwarfed in their black robes and hats. Had he looked like that last year?

As Draco had predicted, Astoria Greengrass, Hestia Carrow, Flora Carrow, and Harper Collum were among those first years sorted into Slytherin. It was interesting to see the Sorting from a different perspective. He was faintly amused whenever a first year jumped as the Sorting Hat hissed in their ear.

After the Sorting was finished, the feast began. It was better than Harry had remembered it. He had forgotten about the sheer amount of food that was presented. As he dug in, Harry welcomed the fact that, once again, he was home.


	13. Year 2: Part 4

The next day, classes began. Breakfast was magnificent, as always. The Slytherin table was stacked full of food that included tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon. Professor Snape handed out the students' course schedules, starting with the seventh years and making his way down to the first and second years. The first class Harry and his yearmates had was Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws.

Transfiguration was dull. They were no longer matches into needles but they were still doing the simplest of things. In that particular lesson, Harry learned how to turn a beetle into a button. The spell itself wasn't hard to learn. Harry had a harder time getting the beetle to stay still than to cast the spell. He felt bad for the beetles, having to deal with all the poking and prodding from the wands of the students, but decided at the end of class that it was their own fault. If they had stopped moving around, everything would have gone easier for both of the parties.

Coming out of Transfiguration, Harry let out a silent groan. Making his way down the hall was Lockhart. He wasn't the only Slytherin to groan, either. Most of the other boys did as well. All the girls, except for Tracey, sighed in admiration. Tracey threw Harry an amused look and rolled her eyes.

"Hello, there!" Lockhart greeted the class. "I was just coming to talk to Professor McGonagall about this little idea I had about starting a dueling club. Wouldn't that be marvelous? You should all join, of course! You shouldn't turn down an opportunity to be taught by the best, after all!"

If Lockhart was the best, Harry would swallow his wand whole.

The Ravenclaws didn't look happy about Lockhart's claims, either. They muttered amongst themselves, casting dark looks in the direction of the oblivious Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Harry overheard something about Professor Flitwick in their mutters. He filed that away and planned to ask about it later. He didn't like not knowing things, especially about people he saw every day.

The class tried to move on to their next class but Harry ran into a situation. He had been trailing after his Slytherin yearmates when Lockhart spotted him.

"Is that Harry Potter?"

Harry stiffened and sent a glare in Draco's direction when he heard the other boy snickering at his misfortune. A large hand clapped Harry's shoulder, causing the twelve-year-old to flinch. Harry reluctantly turned to face the exuberant man.

"Blimey," Lockhart said. "I had heard that you were at Hogwarts but here you are! The real thing!"

Harry tried to not let his scowl show. He may not have liked the man from what he had seen so far but to Slytherins, appearances and first impressions were everything. Therefore, he would try and play nice as long as possible. Harry figured it would be beneficial in the long run. After all, if the man liked him, who knew how many doors would open for him.

Lockhart immediately started rambling on about something but he was talking too fast for Harry to catch anything he was saying. The boy caught the word 'advice' and sighed internally. He sincerely hoped that the man wasn't expecting him to follow any of his "advice". That wasn't going to happen. Harry could promise that.

After a few minutes of Lockhart rambling on and Harry not paying attention, Harry figured it would probably be best to move on. If he didn't, the rest of his Slytherin yearmates would abandon him to get to Herbology on time.

"Er, Professor, I need to get to my next class. Professor Sprout wouldn't like it if I was late."

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say.

"Ah, Professor Sprout! Earlier I was giving her tips on how to repot Mandrakes."

Harry could imagine how that went over. He doubted that any of the professors at Hogwarts would enjoy someone else telling them how to do their job.

Harry gave a jerky nod and pulled himself out of Lockhart's grasp. He backed into the Slytherin crowd and was thankful when they immediately started moving away from the Transfiguration classroom.

"Poor, famous Potter," Draco Malfoy sneered quietly. Harry ignored him.

"Did you even listen to a word he said?" Tracey asked as she shuffled her way to Harry's side. Harry shook his head.

"Nope," he replied. The pair grinned at each other before the entire group picked up their pace and headed for Herbology, which they were once again sharing with the Ravenclaws.

"Greenhouse three, today!" Professor Sprout cried as the group appeared on the Hogwarts' lawn. "Grab a pair of earmuffs and group up. Today we'll be repotting Mandrakes."

Harry grouped up with Tracey, Daphne, and Theodore Nott. Draco Malfoy was joined by Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy. Harry enjoyed Herbology much more than Transfiguration. The task they were assigned was relatively simple and at least the Mandrakes didn't crawl all over the place. They just kicked and wailed. A Ravenclaw hadn't put on their earmuffs tight enough and passed out almost immediately. Harry and the rest of his classmates got a good laugh out of that. Professor Sprout just sighed and shook her head. She had expected something like that. However, she was surprised it was a Ravenclaw and not one of the burly Slytherins like Crabbe and Goyle.

Professor Sprout let out the class with just enough time to wash up before lunch. Harry was thankful because he was a sweaty mess and had cuts and scrapes from the squirming Mandrakes.

Lunch was slightly traumatizing for Harry. He thought Lockhart and his advice was bad but that was before he found out that he had a personal photographer. He had been aware that he was being watched, but that was nothing new. Harry had been stared at since the moment he had walked through the Great Hall doors last year for the very first time. Having his picture taken out of the blue, however, wasn't something he was used to.

The flash of light startled Harry from where he was eating lunch and reading his schedule to find out what classes he had this afternoon. The flash also drew the attention of everyone else at the Slytherin table.

"All right there, Harry?" a small voice asked as Harry's eyes cleared.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"I'm Colin Creevey," the mousy boy said. "I'm in Gryffindor. Could you sign my picture once I get it developed?"

"Sign your picture?" Harry had no clue what to think of that request. Down the table, Draco sniggered.

"So I can prove I've met you," Colin continued. "I know all about you from the books but no one back home would believe me."

Harry stared at the boy in disbelief.

"No," he replied. Colin looked slightly taken aback at the bluntness of his answer.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because I don't want to," Harry replied simply and turned back to his lunch. Hopefully that would be the end of it. Turning back to his lunch also allowed Harry to not look at Colin's dejected face as the boy skulked away. As the Gryffindor left, Draco's snickers grew louder.

"Can I have a signed photo, Potter?" he asked mockingly. "Please. I want one so badly. I would just die if I didn't have a signed photo from Harry Potter."

Harry scowled at the blonde-haired boy.

"Shut it, Malfoy," he growled lowly.

"Or what?" Malfoy asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry didn't have a reply and Malfoy sat back looking satisfied. The rest of the Slytherins turned back to their mid-day meal. Harry's cheeks burned as some of his yearmates gave him looks that ranged from odd to curious to disappointed. He knew that he needed to come up with better comebacks but he could never think of any in time.

After lunch came Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors. Harry and the rest of the second year Slytherin boys couldn't think of a worse form of torture.

"Why is he being allowed to teach here?" Theodore Nott wanted to know as he tossed his set of Lockhart books onto the desk beside Harry. "His books are rubbish. My dad almost refused to buy the books since he didn't want any of that filth in his house. My mom had to talk him into it."

"You would have been better off not buying the books," Harry muttered as Lockhart swept into the room. Lockhart picked up a copy of one of his books from a desk in the front row.

"Me," he said, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class—" Harry tuned out the rest of the speech. He honestly didn't care. It was just useless information anyway. Harry tuned in as he heard the word quiz and papers started being handed out but as soon as he saw the questions, he stared at the test blankly.

_What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?_

_What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?_

_What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?_

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:

_54: When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?_

Harry didn't even try on the questions. He knew that he wouldn't be able to answer any of them. He had skimmed through the books and ignored anything that talked about Lockhart himself. In the end, he had probably only read a quarter of the material in the books.

At the end of the thirty minutes, Lockhart collected the papers.

"Tut, tut—hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac."

Because over half the class was made up of boys and none of them cared.

"…but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions—good girl! In fact"—he flipped her paper over—"full marks!"

No one in the class looked surprised though Harry's opinion of the girl fell. He had hoped that she wouldn't have been taken in by Lockhart's charm. She seemed so logical. It just didn't make sense to him.

After the test, the class just went downhill. Harry shouldn't have been as shocked as he did. Yes, it had seemed that nothing could be worse than taking a test that focused on meaningless facts about his professor but that was before the pixies were released.

By the end of that class period, Harry had a new appreciation for the chaos pixies could cause and utterly loathed Gilderoy Lockhart.

* * *

The rest of the week went by slowly for Harry. He spent most of his free time dodging Lockhart in the halls. The man seemed to want to take Harry under his wing and tutor him in the art of being famous. Just the idea made Harry sick. Nothing would stop the man. Even Professor Snape's glares and snide comments did nothing to faze the blond-haired man.

Harry also couldn't look forward to the weekend. Quidditch try-outs were that weekend and most of his yearmates were planning on trying out. That meant that all their conversations centered around Quidditch. Harry was sure that he was the only one in the second year that wasn't trying out for the Slytherin Quidditch team. He didn't know why he should bother. There was only one position open—the Seeker position—and Harry was almost positive that Draco would get the spot. He was the best flyer out of their year and he had already promised Marcus Flint, the Quidditch Captain, that if he was put on the team that they would get new, top of the line broomsticks. No one in his or her sensible mind would pass an opportunity like that up.

Millicent Bulstrode asked if Harry was going to try out. Her question had been met by snickers from everyone else in their year. Harry had turned red and shook his head. He still wasn't a huge fan of flying.

"It's too bad," Daphne Greengrass had commented. "Even though he was a Gryffindor, your father was a great flyer. I bet you have some of that talent, too."

Harry had merely shrugged at the time. He doubted that he had any of that talent. For all he knew, his actual father wasn't even a Gryffindor. Daphne's comment made Harry realize that he didn't actually know anything about 'S.' He didn't even know what house the man was in.

The Quidditch season had gotten off to an interesting start, he learned later. Marcus Flint had learned that the Gryffindors would begin training earlier than normal (how, Harry still didn't know) and had quickly made his decision about who was going to be the next Slytherin Seeker—Malfoy. No one was surprised. Then he had gathered the team together to sabotage the Gryffindor team's first practice, which had ended in a confrontation. Everyone there had gotten a good laugh. All Harry knew was that there was an incident with slugs. Then again, he hadn't really bothered to listen when Draco told the story for the hundredth time.

The only highlight of the weekend for Harry was when he had gone to visit Hagrid. He hadn't seen the man since last summer.

Harry knocked on the door and Hagrid appeared, looking grumpy. However, his expression changed as soon as he saw Harry.

"Bin wonderin'," he said. "Thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart again—"

"He's been here?" Harry asked. Hagrid scowled and nodded.

"Tryin' ter tell me how ter take care of flesh-eating slugs. Like I don' know. Offered me a signed copy o' his book…If any of what he said works, I'll—" Hagrid didn't finish his sentence but Harry could imagine. He was glad that Hagrid wasn't a fan of the man either.

"He tried giving me tips on how to be famous," he said as Hagrid started to make tea. The boy ran a hand over Fang's back. The hound had immediately started begging for attention the moment he had entered the hut.

"Don' listen ter any o' it," Hagrid responded. "Yeh can do a lot better than ter take his advice."

"I didn't listen to a single word he said," Harry promised the larger man. "Why did Professor Dumbledore hire him anyway? He's so obnoxious."

"He was teh on'y man for the job," Hagrid replied. "It's getting' difficult ter find anyone for the position. People are startin' ter think that it's cursed. No one's lasted fer more than a year since…" Hagrid trailed off. Harry noticed the hesitation right away.

"Since when, Hagrid?" he asked.

"Fer a while. Since You-Know-Who came looking fer tha' job."

Harry's eyes widened.

"Voldemort wanted the position?" he asked. Hagrid instantly shushed him.

"Don' say that name!" he warned. Harry looked apologetic.

"Sorry," he said. "But You-Know-Who wanted the job?"

Hagrid nodded.

"Not everyone knows," he said. "Shortly after he left Hogwarts, he came around, looking fer some work. Professor Dippet said he was too young. Good thing, in my opinion."

"Professor Dippet?" Harry asked. The name was unfamiliar to him.

"Headmaster o' the school before Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid informed the boy. "He was fond o' You-Know-Who before his true nature became known."

The thought that anyone could be fond of Voldemort was unimaginable to Harry.

"How?" he asked. Hagrid sighed.

"He was a brilliant boy," he admitted to Harry, "but very manipulative. Ter most, he seemed like the perfect student…"

"But Professor Dumbledore didn't," Harry realized. Hagrid nodded.

"Ne'er trusted him," he said. "Somethin' just didn' seem right ter him."

A thought occurred to Harry.

"How do you know so much about this, Hagrid?" he asked. Hagrid immediately busied himself with the tea.

"We went teh Hogwarts around the same time," he said. Harry prodded further but Hagrid refused to say more. Harry left the hut with an inkling that Hagrid knew something about Voldemort that he was unwilling to talk about. He decided to look up some more information in the library.

* * *

Finding information on Voldemort's early years was harder than Harry had anticipated. If he looked up the name Voldemort, he would only get information starting from the man's rise to power. There was no mention of his time at Hogwarts.

Then there was the fact that Madam Pince kept giving Harry these piercing looks. It was like she found it suspicious that Harry would be looking up information on the former Dark Lord. It made Harry uncomfortable.

It didn't occur to Harry until a few days later that Voldemort was most likely not the man's original name. That realization left him stuck. He had no idea where to begin. Voldemort could have been anyone in the past.

Harry needed dates. The most reliable source of information was Hagrid and the man still refused to talk. Whenever Harry asked, the man would pretend to be deaf and change the subject. It was like last year, when Harry had asked questions about why Hagrid had been expelled from Hogwarts…

Saturday night, Harry left the library as it was closing for the night. It was nearly midnight. At first, nothing seemed odd but then he heard it. The voice. It chilled his bones. It was the voice of icy venom, a voice of pure evil.

" _Come…come to me…Let me rip you…Let me tear you…Let me kill you…"_

Harry looked around wildly, looking for the speaker. There was nothing in the hallway. His hands began to shake. Who had spoken? Why couldn't he see them? Did they have an invisibility cloak like he did?

Harry took a deep breath and cleared his head. He was worrying over nothing. He was probably imagining things. Researching information about Voldemort had probably made him jumpy.

Harry moved on, trying to relax but he didn't manage to relax until he was safely in the Slytherin common room. He hadn't heard the voice again on his walk back, which just confirmed his belief that he had been imaging things. After all, normal people didn't hear voices.

* * *

The next few weeks passed quickly for Harry. Before he knew it, it was Halloween. Harry was excited for the Halloween feast. Last year it had been a treat—at least until the troll had invaded the school. This year it looked like it would be just as exciting. There were the usual bats flying around the school, a troupe of dancing skeletons had been hired, and Hagrid had provided pumpkin lanterns large enough for at least five students to sit in.

And that was just the start. Thousands of candles lit up the Great Hall with colored flames. Blue and purple flames provided the Great Hall with an eerie setting, which was further enhanced by the ceiling. It was storming outside, so the ceiling was lit up by lightning that jumped from cloud to cloud. Occasionally a roll of thunder would break through the loud chatter of the students. Overall, it was looking to be a great time.

Until Harry heard the voice again.

"… _rip…tear…kill…"_

It was the same voice, the same evil, icy voice.

Harry dropped his fork and looked around wildly.

"You all right there, Harry?" Pansy asked him, hearing the clatter. Harry gave a jerky nod and continued looking around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and Harry was ready to go back to his dessert when the voice spoke again.

"… _so hungry…for so long…"_

How was he hearing the voice through the loud chatter of his fellow students? The voice didn't seem to be coming from anywhere in the Great Hall. In fact, it seemed like it was coming from the wall behind him. Harry turned in his seat and stared at the stone wall.

"… _kill…time to kill…"_

It was growing fainter. In fact, it was like it was moving upward. Harry's brow furrowed. How was it moving upward?

"Are you sure you're all right?" Tracey asked from her spot next to Pansy. Harry turned back to the two girls.

"Actually, my stomach hurts. I think I'll go back to the common room and lay down for a bit," he lied, faking a grimace. Tracey and Pansy set aside their silverware after trading looks.

"We'll come with," Tracey said. Harry didn't bother to argue. He just wanted to find out more about that voice. The green-eyed boy stood up and left the Great Hall, urging himself not to walk too quickly, despite wanting to run and catch up with the voice. He didn't bother waiting for Pansy and Tracey.

He could still hear the voice but just barely. Once out of the Great Hall, he sprinted up the nearest staircase to the first floor.

"Harry, wait up!" Tracey called after him as the two girls followed. Harry paid her no heed.

"… _I smell blood…I SMELL BLOOD!"_

Harry sprinted up the next set of stairs. The voice was still moving upward. He could hear Pansy and Tracey picking up their pace as he followed him.

"This isn't the way to the common room," Pansy huffed out. Harry didn't listen. Instead, he traversed the second floor, hurling around the corners. He didn't stop until he reached the last, deserted passageway.

"Potter, what's going on?"

Harry just pointed down the corner, stunned by the sight before him. Tracey gasped.

Words had been written between two windows, lit up by flaming torches. The words gleamed eerily in the light cast by the torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Peering closer, the three Slytherins spotted something hanging underneath one of the torches.

Harry edged nearer. Pansy and Tracey followed. Harry nearly slipped on a large puddle of water on the floor but was caught by the two girls. Once he realized what was hanging under the torch, Harry quickly stepped back.

"It's Mrs. Norris," he whispered. The cat was wide-eyed, cold, and stiff, as if she had been terrified to death.

"Let's get out of here," Pansy decided. "We shouldn't be found here, especially by Filch."

It was too late. Already Harry could hear the telltale thunder that was the sound of a large group of people moving in one direction—their direction. The feast had ended.

As students rounded the corners on either end of the corridor, they fell silent as they spotted the words. Harry, Pansy, and Tracey were trapped.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

Harry could have punched Draco Malfoy. The boy had a talent for making a situation even worse. His shout attracted the attention of Filch, who had been prowling the halls in a bad mood because he had been unable to find Mrs. Norris for the past few hours.

"What's going on here? What's going on?"

Filch shouldered his way through the crowd and spotted Mrs. Norris. He fell back, his face a mask of horror.

"What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked, glaring at all the staring students. His eyes landed on Harry, Pansy, and Tracey. Filch's face turned murderous.

"What have you done to my cat?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak but Filch continued screaming.

"You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll—"

" _Argus!_ "

Harry had never been so happy to see Professor Dumbledore and the other teachers. If they hadn't shown up, he had no doubt that Filch would have killed him.

Dumbledore examined the scene before stepping forward and detaching Mrs. Norris from the torch.

"Come with me," he ordered the three students. Harry could hear the other teachers urging the students to move onward.

Lockhart stepped forward.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster," he offered. Dumbledore inclined his head. Harry and the two Slytherin girls followed the headmaster, Harry shrinking back under the dark eyes of his head of house. He hoped that they believed that he, Pansy, and Tracey had nothing with what had happened to Mrs. Norris.

They entered Lockhart's office. Professor Dumbledore lay Mrs. Norris on the desk and began to examine her. Professors McGonagall and Snape gathered around the desk. Tracey, Pansy, and Harry stood off to the side. Lockhart flitted around the other professors, making suggestions that no one paid attention to. Filch glared at the three second years.

Finally, Dumbledore straightened up.

"She's not dead," he announced. Filch glanced at the man, stunned by the diagnosis. He had been sure that she was dead.

"Not dead?" he asked.

"She has been Petrified," Dumbledore explained further. "But how, I cannot say…"

"Ask  _them!_ " Filch accused, pointing a knobbly finger in Harry's direction.

"No second year could have done this," Professor Dumbledore replied. "This is most advanced Dark Magic—"

"They were found at the scene of the crime!" Filch claimed.

"We never touched Mrs. Norris!" Harry claimed loudly. Professor Snape eyed him, causing Harry to shiver slightly. He didn't know how to begin describing the look in the man's eyes.

"Are you accusing my students of practicing Dark Magic?" he finally asked Filch.

"Yes!" the distraught man cried. "They were there! You saw them! Why were they there before everyone else?"

"Sir, we left early because Harry said he wasn't feeling well and wanted to go to the common room," Tracey interrupted.

"That's not the way to the Slytherin common room," Professor McGonagall pointed out. Pansy and Tracey glanced at Harry, silently telling him to come up with a reason for that.

"I needed to find a bathroom and that was the first one I thought of," Harry lied quickly. Professor Snape gave Harry a look, as if he could tell that the boy wasn't being entirely truthful. However, he didn't say anything and for that, Harry was thankful.

"Innocent until proven guilty," Professor Dumbledore said. Filch looked furious.

"My cat has been Petrified!" he yelled. "I want to see some  _punishment!_ "

"We will be able to cure her," Dumbledore reassured Filch. "Professor Sprout has some Mandrakes and we will be able to make a Mandrake Restorative Draught as soon as they are mature…"

Well, that was convenient, Harry thought.

"I'll make it," Lockhart offered. "I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—"

"Excuse me," Professor Snape interrupted icily, "but I believe  _I_  am the Potions master of this school."

Harry wanted to snicker at the look on Lockhart's face but figured now would be a very bad time to do so.

"You may go," Professor Dumbledore said to the three Slytherins. They backed out of the room quickly but Harry was called back almost as soon as he was out of the door.

"Mr. Potter, I want to see you in my office," Professor Snape said as he exited Lockhart's office. Harry's stomach sunk.


	14. Year 2: Part 5

Harry followed Professor Snape silently as they made their way to the dungeons. He barely noticed Pansy and Tracey giving him contemplative looks. The walk from Lockhart's office to the dungeons seemed to take an eternity and yet, it was over all too quickly.

"Miss Parkinson, Miss Davis, you may leave. I would suggest returning to the common room as soon as possible. Mr. Potter will be following you shortly."

The two girls nodded. Harry swallowed nervously and shifted from foot to foot. He wasn't sure what Professor Snape wanted to talk to him about but he was sure that it couldn't be anything good. Normally when students of Slytherin house were summoned to the Potions professor's office, they were in severe trouble.

Harry glanced longingly at the retreating backs of Pansy and Tracey, wishing desperately that he could be with them, before trailing Professor Snape into his office.

"You wanted to speak to me, sir?" he asked, fidgeting as he tried not to look around the office. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see parts of animals floating in jars.

"I would have thought by now that you would have learned that I don't like being lied to, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said in a low voice. Harry's fidgeting increased.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir," he said. Professor Snape sighed.

"If you insist on lying to my face," he hissed, "try not to make it blatantly obvious. Professor Dumbledore may be content with believing what he hears at face value but I am not. What are you hiding?"

"Nothing, sir," Harry replied quickly. Professor Snape's eyes narrowed.

"Potter!" he barked. Harry flinched.

"It's nothing, sir. I just thought…" he trailed off and looked around the room.

"Thought what?" Professor Snape prodded.

"That I had heard something. A voice," Harry finished. The green-eyed boy waited anxiously for his professor's reaction.

"What kind of voice?" Professor Snape asked after a few long seconds.

"Cold. Dangerous. It was talking about how—" Harry gulped. It felt like there was a lump in his throat and it was making it difficult to talk.

"How what?" Professor Snape prodded again.

"How it was going to kill," Harry continued. "It wanted to rip and tear and kill. Then it said it smelled blood. That's when we found Mrs. Norris." Tears were pricking at the boy's eyes. Somehow talking about what had happened scared Harry more than it was actually happening.

"You didn't feel like this was important enough to mention to Professor Dumbledore?" Professor Snape asked. Harry shook his head and gave the man a sad, scared look.

"Even I know that hearing voices isn't a good sign, wizarding world or not. I don't want to be a freak. The Dursleys already think I am. I don't need the rest of the world thinking the same thing."

Harry's fidgeting started up again under the calculating gaze of his Head of House.

"One last question and then you can go, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said once he had regained control of his racing thoughts. Harry gave a tiny nod and the Potions Master asked his final question. "Where did you hear this voice come from?"

The younger wizard shrugged.

"I couldn't pinpoint it exactly but if I didn't know any better, I would say it was coming from the walls."

The walls? Professor Snape was baffled. There was something inside the walls?

"You can go," he told Harry absently. "Be careful. One can never know what lurks behind these walls." Quite literally, it seemed.

Harry made a hasty retreat, glad to be rid of the Potions professor's office and the disturbing jars that lined the wall. Professor Snape barely noticed him leave. After a few minutes of contemplation, he summoned a book off one of the many bookshelves in the office with a sigh. It looked like it was going to be a long night but he needed to start somewhere. After all, he would do anything to protect his students.

Especially Potter.

Arriving in the common room, Harry was immediately cornered by Pansy and Tracey.

"What the bloody hell happened tonight?" Pansy demanded. "Are you mad? Why did you go tearing through the castle like that?"

"I just didn't feel well," Harry lied. "I thought I heard something but it was just my imagination." No one look convinced.

"Your imagination?" Pansy asked skeptically. Harry nodded.

"It's been a busy week and I was caught up in the mood of Halloween," he said. "Now let me go to bed. I'm not in the mood for celebrating anymore. I'll see you tomorrow."

Pansy and Tracey backed away to let the boy go to his dorm. As Harry made his way through the crowd, he heard Tracey remark,

"Well, at least the rest of the school will leave the Slytherins alone for a while due to this. After all, won't the Heir of Slytherin naturally be a Slytherin?"

* * *

 

Tracey turned out to be right. The majority of the school population avoided the Slytherins whenever they could. Even the Ravenclaws, who were normally accepting of the serpents, were suspicious.

The students were especially distrustful of Harry, Pansy, and Tracey. As they had been discovered at the scene of the crime, everyone suspected them. Who else could have done it? No one else had been missing at the Halloween feast.

Even the Slytherins were suspicious. Many of the older students claimed that they wouldn't put it past the students in other houses, especially the Gryffindors, to have come up with it to get Slytherin House in trouble. Very few of them had even heard of the Chamber of Secrets.

But there was no denying that it existed. They had gotten their confirmation from Professor Binns himself. While scatterbrained, Professor Binns had lived at the school longer than anybody else, except for possibly the Sorting Hat.

Harry jerked awake as he heard the voice of one of the Gryffindors. Hermione. She was apparently prepared to do the unexpected—ask Professor Binns a question. As far as Harry knew, he was the only one that had done so prior to this occurrence.

"I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets."

Even the Slytherins were leaning closer to the front of the room, looking interested. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw many of his classmates wake with a start.

"My subject is History of Magic. I deal with  _facts_ , Miss Granger, not myths and legends." Professor Binns seemed offended that a student would even consider asking him about such things. He attempted to continue on but Hermione stopped him once again.

"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"

Harry hid a grin behind his hand at the look of amazement on Professor Binns' face. Expressions always seemed odd on a ghost. Of course, the ghost he interacted the most with was the Bloody Baron, who was always dreary.

"Well, yes, one could argue that, I suppose." Professor Binns looked like he had sucked on a lemon as he made the admission. "However, the legend of which you speak is a very _sensational,_ even _ludicrous_  tale—"

Harry didn't believe Professor Binns' words. If one looked closely at the History of Magic professor, they would be able to see that he was nervous by the way his eyes roamed around the classroom and by the way he floated just a few inches higher.

It didn't take much more convincing before Professor Binns was relaying the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The effects of having an audience were greater than Harry had imagined. Of course, Harry wouldn't call the story of Chamber of Secrets a legend. It was more of a horror story, in his opinion.

"The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle. Of the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

A slight shiver ran up Harry's spine. Maybe Draco had been right. Muggleborns would be targeted if the Chamber of Secrets had truly been opened. It was only a matter of time. And a matter of what. The horror that lay within the Chamber of Secrets could be anything.

"Sir, what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"

Professor Binns sighed. He didn't look thrilled about relaying what could easily be considered a bedtime horror story to his students.

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control."

Well, that narrowed it down to any creature that could be controlled by magic. Unfortunately, that involved most of the animals on the planet, Muggle and magical.

"I tell you, the thing does not exist," Professor Binns said firmly. "There is no Chamber and no monster."

Professor Binns' words didn't reassure the class. Everyone wanted to believe that the Chamber of Secrets existed. Harry didn't blame them. The message had to have been written for a reason. Why would someone say that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened if such a thing didn't even exist?

"Well, that was certainly an interesting class," Theodore Nott commented at lunch. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please. It wasn't anything new. Professor Binns basically fed us lines from  _Hogwarts, A History,"_  he said in a scathing voice. "And now the Gryffindors just have another reason to poke around and try to blame us for everything. Shall we make a bet about which one of us they'll accuse of being the Heir of Slytherin first?"

The second years leaned in eagerly at the proposition of a bet. Harry picked at the food on his plate, suddenly not hungry. He already knew that he would be one of the top choices.

"I'm going to say Draco," Pansy said with a smirk. Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent Bulstrode nodded in agreement.

"What? Why?" Draco asked indignantly.

"Maybe because of your 'You'll be next, Mudbloods,' comment," Pansy replied as she sat back. "That makes you automatically suspicious." Draco snorted.

"A comment like that doesn't mean anything."

"To you," Blaise replied. "To others, it might actually mean something." Draco frowned.

"Well, my bet is on Potter," Draco muttered petulantly. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Naturally," he replied and continued pushing his food around on his plate.

"You're not going to ask why?" Draco's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"The reasons are obvious," Harry said. "I defeated Voldemort as a baby and was sorted into Slytherin. People probably think that I'm the next Dark Lord. I was also the first one to find the message. People don't need many more reasons than that."

Harry didn't mention the voice. It was bad enough that Professor Snape knew. He didn't want any of his house to know as well. If accusations started flying around the school, soon they would be all he could rely on. He didn't want to be abandoned by his house as well for being a freak.

* * *

 

Harry closed the book in front of him with a sigh. His homework was already finished and with nothing else to do, the green-eyed boy had decided to occupy his time with trying to figure out what sort of monster would be hidden within the Chamber of Secrets. The other students at Hogwarts were content with speculating about who the Heir of Slytherin was but Harry wasn't. In his opinion, the real danger lay with the monster itself. A person was easily dealt with. A monster on the other hand…

It didn't help that Harry had nearly nothing to go on. All he had was a voice lurking in the walls and the fact that Mrs. Norris had been Petrified. He didn't know how and that made it near impossible to narrow the monster down to a specific category.

Harry glanced at the pile of books sitting on the table in front of him. They had all been scoured for information and he had found nothing. Absolutely nothing. Harry leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. He didn't know what to do.

"This essay is disgraceful," he overheard a sixth year saying. The girl was sitting just a few chairs over and was glaring down at a piece of parchment. "I could barely find anything because all the books I need are in the Restricted Section!"

The Restricted Section. Harry had considered looking for any sort of information there but it was nearly impossible to get into the Restricted Section. Madam Pince refused to let students into the Restricted Section, pulling the requested books from the shelves herself. Filch often lurked around the library at night so sneaking in wasn't an option unless Harry had a way to become invisible.

The twelve-year-old let out a groan at his stupidity. How had he not seen it before? He had a way of getting into the Restricted Section and it was sitting at the bottom of his trunk.

With a plan beginning to form, Harry gathered up his books and headed for the dorm. While the dorm was still empty, he grabbed his cloak and tucked it under his pillow. He didn't want to draw any attention to himself when he was sneaking out of the dormitory. He knew for a fact that Draco and Blaise were light sleepers and would easily wake if he took a single wrong step.

It was after midnight when Harry was sure that everyone was asleep. He pulled the Invisibility Cloak out from under his pillow and made sure that it covered him completely before slipping out of his bed. The Slytherin set his feet gingerly down on the floor and held his breath when he heard a faint creak. Only when he was certain that neither Draco nor Blaise had woken up did he take another step.

Harry didn't take a full breath until he was safely outside of the Slytherin common room. Luckily for him, there had been no Slytherins in the common room.

As Harry approached the Restricted Section, he felt his chest tighten in anticipation. The thought of being able to discover which creature lay within the Chamber of Secrets was nearly overwhelming. If he could find out which creature it was—if he found out  _where_ the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was—then he would be regarded as a hero.

Hours later, becoming a hero didn't seem as possible as it did at the beginning of the night. He was feeling foolish. Why did he think that there would be information in the Restricted Section? If there was, why had no one else found it? Was there even a Chamber of Secrets?

The green-eyed Slytherin closed the book he had been reading and turned to grab a new one off the shelves. His hand flew to his heart and he stifled his startled gasp as he spotted a pair of tennis ball-sized eyes in the corner of his vision.

"Dobby?" Harry hissed quietly. The house-elf nodded miserably.

"Harry Potter should have listened to Dobby, sir," he whispered. "Harry Potter should not have come back to Hogwarts. Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he missed the train?"

Suddenly the incident at the beginning of September all made sense to Harry. Dobby had tried to stop him from going through the barrier. The tricky, conniving elf…

" _You_ stopped the barrier from letting me through?" he hissed accusingly. Dobby nodded solemnly. Harry glared at the house-elf and clenched his hands into fists. He took deep breaths, not wanting to do something rash.

"What are you doing here?" he asked after he had calmed down somewhat.

"Harry Potter  _must_ go home!" Dobby said, voice rising slightly.

"Why?" Harry demanded. "Because of the Chamber of Secrets? It's already been opened so it's a bit late—"

The boy cut off as Dobby gained a horrified expression at the thought and began to shake.

"Harry Potter must go home!" he repeated. "Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more—"

Eyes widening at the admission, Dobby grabbed one of the books in Harry's pile and slammed his head into it. Harry didn't move to stop him, too surprised to do or say anything.

"What?" he said when the revelation began to sink in. "Who's opened it? Who opened it last time? What sort of creature is in the Chamber of Secrets? Where is it located?"

Dobby shook his head vigorously.

"Dobby won't say, sir! Dobby mustn't say!" he squeaked, voice rising even further. One corner of Harry's mind was surprised that no one had come to investigate yet. Dobby was certainly making enough noise to draw attention to the Restricted Section.

"Tell me," Harry ordered. Dobby continued to shake his head.

"Harry Potter must go home!" Dobby warned one last time before disappearing. Harry blinked at the sudden disappearance, wondering why the house-elf would have taken off at that particular moment.

Then he heard it.

"… _rip…tear…kill…."_

Harry looked around wildly. The voice was faint, sounding like it was coming from outside the library. He slipped on his invisibility cloak and fled the library, not bothering to return the books he had been reading to their shelves.

"… _rip…tear…kill…"_

Harry followed the voice, desperate to get a glimpse of the monster that was beginning to haunt the school. It never once crossed his mind that he could be putting himself in danger.

Harry tripped on the edge of the invisibility cloak and ended up falling to his knees. He let out a quiet cry of pain and scrunched his eyes in pain. He pushed himself to his feet quickly but he fallen strangely on his knees. One was already swelling. There was no way he would be able to run and keep up with the voice.

No longer able to hear the voice, the young Slytherin started the slow journey back to the Slytherin common room. The stairs were the most difficult part, as Harry could only put a small amount of pressure on his knee without collapsing. For many of the steps, he had to actually sit down and slide down the stairs that way.

A small scream echoed through the corridors of Hogwarts. Harry shivered at the sound. The scream had come from the direction he was heading in. The boy quickened his pace in hopes that he could avoid the professors that would surely be drawn to the area by the scream.

No such luck. Within minutes, the young wizard could hear urgent voices.

"Minerva, what happened?" Harry swallowed nervously at the sound of Professor Dumbledore's voice.

"Albus, look," Professor McGonagall sounded terrified. "There's been another attack."

"Let's get the boy to the hospital wing," Professor Dumbledore said quietly. "Before the other students wake up."

Harry pressed himself against the cold stone wall as he inched closer to the scene. He sucked in a breath as Professor Dumbledore rounded the corner, carrying the top half of a statue-like person. Professor McGonagall appeared a few seconds later, carrying the other end. As the two adults passed him, Harry was able to get a glimpse of a face—the Gryffindor, Colin Creevey.

Once he was sure that the two adults and their cargo were out of sight and hearing range, Harry continued to limp toward the Slytherin common room. He sighed in relief once he was safely under his covers. After tonight he didn't want to leave his bed ever again. His quest had been all for nothing. He had only learned three things—the Chamber of Secrets existed, it had been opened before, and there had been a second attack. Harry was almost positive that the voice inside the walls was connected to the attacks.

* * *

 

"Harry, what happened to your knee?" Tracy asked as the boy limped down the stairs the next morning. Harry glanced down at his leg and winced. Something was definitely wrong.

"I fell on it," he said.

"When? It wasn't like that last night." Sometimes Harry hated how astute the members of Slytherin house could be. It made situations like this difficult to divert.

"I couldn't sleep last night, so I came down to the common room for a while," he lied. "I tripped coming up the stairs on the way back to the dormitory. It didn't look this bad then."

Tracy looked skeptical but didn't ask any more questions. "You should go see Madam Pomfrey," she said. "It looks painful."

Harry nodded. He had been planning on going to the hospital wing already. He wanted to see if he could get a glimpse of Colin and find out more information. Unfortunately, his plan didn't work. Madam Pomfrey had erected a curtain around Colin's bed and refused to answer his questions about what lie behind the curtain.

The news of Colin's attack spread through most of the school quickly. While most of the students were panicking over the fact that there had been a second attack, the majority of Slytherins regarded it as a joke.

"It's his own fault," Harry overheard a fourth year say. "What was he doing out of bed that late, anyway? If you're going to sneak around, at least do it right. He was probably the one that went through all those books in the Restricted Section. Couldn't even be bothered to clean up his mess."

Harry buried his nose even further in his book. While nearly all of the students believed that Colin had broken into the Restricted Section, he knew different and it embarrassed him. Madam Pince had decided to shut the library down earlier as a result and had taken to staying in the library after hours to see if anyone else would attempt to break into the library.

When the sign-up was posted to stay for Christmas during the middle of December, Harry's was the first name on the list. Surprisingly, Draco also signed up, along with Crabbe and Goyle. Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bulstrode also signed up once they saw who else was staying.

"Why are you staying again?" Blaise asked Draco once he had scrawled his name on the list. Draco shrugged.

"Mother and Father are going to the villa in Spain and I don't want to go. It's rather boring there."

Harry rolled his eyes and made a face. At least Draco could go home if he chose to do so. The Dursleys wouldn't let him anywhere near Privet Drive unless it was for the summer holidays.

"Mum and Dad said that you're welcome to stay with us," Tracy said quietly. Harry shook his head. While he had loved staying with the Davis's during the summer, Christmas was a family holiday and he didn't want to intrude.

"I'll be fine here," he said. "The Christmas feast is amazing."

* * *

 

The Potions lesson before the winter holidays began was unusual. They had been making Swelling Solutions, one of the more basic potions. The worst that could have happened was a melted cauldron.

Unless you were Gregory Goyle.

Harry flinched as Goyle's cauldron exploded, showering most of the class and arousing shrieks. A droplet landed on his arm and the skin began to swell. Draco and Goyle got an entire faceful.

"Silence!" Professor Snape roared over the cries. "Silence! Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft—" the professor looked furious as most of the class began to line up for a Deflating Draft. He looked murderous as the burnt remains of a firework were pulled out of the destroyed cauldron. Harry hoped that whoever threw the firework would have sense enough to not tell anyone else about the prank, because if Professor Snape found out who did it, expulsion would be the least of his or her worries.

For the next few days, Professor Snape was in a foul mood. At first, it seemed like an overreaction to the explosion in Harry's mind—until he found out about the Dueling Club. Watching Gilderoy Lockhart walk onto the dueling stage, announcing Professor Snape as his assistant, Harry decided that the Potions professor was allowed to be as insulted as he wanted.

"Why is  _he_  starting the Dueling club?" Harry muttered to Tracy. "If anyone should be doing this, it should be Professor Flitwick. At least he was a dueling champion, not a nitwit."

Tracy smirked in response. Her smirk grew even wider as Professor Snape successfully disarmed Lockhart without even batting an eye. Harry cheered along with Malfoy before flinching at the glares a few of the girls in the room sent their way.

Thirty minutes in, Harry had decided that the Dueling club was a waste of time. All it did, he observed as Millicent Bulstrode tackled Hermione Granger, was give students a way to take out their frustrations on the other houses that was permitted. His own partner, Ron Weasley, could barely aim his wand in the right direction.

"Potter, Malfoy! Up on the stage!" Harry glanced at Lockhart in amazement. Why was he supposed to get on the stage?

"You'll be giving everyone a demonstration on blocking unfriendly spells," Lockhart explained. Harry sighed and reluctantly got on the stage. Draco looked reluctant as well.

"Now, Harry—" Lockhart began but Harry cut him off.

"I know how to do it," he said abruptly. Lockhart looked surprised at his tone but backed away. As Harry faced his dorm mate, his stomach twisted nervously. In all actuality, he had no clue about what he had to do. He was sure Malfoy wouldn't actually try to hurt him, they still weren't friends. Harry had no idea what to expect.

"Three—two—one—go!" Lockhart shouted.

" _Serpensortia!"_  Malfoy cried, raising his wand quicker than Harry. Harry watched wide-eyed as a snake shot out of the end of the wand, hissing furiously. He was supposed to block a snake? That seemed easy enough. All he had to do was dodge the fangs.

"Don't worry, I'll get rid of it," Lockhart shouted, brandishing his wand. The students in the crowd shrieked as the snake flew through the air before landing in the middle of the stage. Immediately it raised itself as it prepared to strike, fangs exposed and heading right for a Hufflepuff named Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Stop!" Harry shouted stupidly. "Leave him alone!"

The snake turned to face Harry, relaxing and closing its mouth. Harry eyed the snake in faint amazement. He hadn't actually expected his shouting to do the trick. He hadn't even been sure that snakes could hear, as they had no obvious ears. The only reason he had tried was because it had worked a few summers ago at the zoo.

"What are you playing at?" Justin's shout drew Harry's attention away from the snake. Harry's eyebrows narrowed in confusion.

"What?" he asked. Justin drew away from him, along with the students standing nearest to the stage.

"Harry!" Pansy hissed, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him off the stage. "Come on!" Pansy led Harry out of the Great Hall, the crowd parting as they moved. Many of the students were giving Harry frightened looks. A few were muttering under their breaths.

"What's going on?" Harry asked once Pansy let go of him. A few of their yearmates had followed him out. Pansy raised an eyebrow.

"Do you really not know?" she asked. "You didn't know that you're a Parselmouth?"

"A what?" Harry asked.

"Well, that answers that question," Theodore Nott muttered.

"A Parselmouth is someone that can talk to snakes," Pansy explained with a huff. "Did you really not know?"

Harry shrugged.

"I don't know. There was one time that I set a boa constrictor on my cousin at the zoo but that was before I received my Hogwarts letter."

Tracy snorted in amusement.

They were nearly to the common room when Harry realized something.

"Wait—how did you know that I was a Parselmouth?" he asked his yearmates. "And why was everyone acting like I had just committed murder? I was just telling the snake to leave Justin alone."

"For all we know, you could have been saying anything. We just heard hissing," Theo muttered. "Creepy hissing at that."

"I thought I was speaking English," Harry informed the group. "How was I speaking a different language without knowing I was?"

The other second years could only shrug.

"So why was everyone looking so scared?" Harry asked again. "Is being a Parselmouth rare or something?"

"Or something," Theo replied. "Don't you know anything? Salazar Slytherin and all of his descendants were Parselmouths. Or did you just think that he  _really_  liked snakes? You probably just made your way to the top of the list as the Heir of Slytherin with that little display."

Pansy smirked at that comment.

"Draco's going to be so jealous," she said. "He wanted the school to think that  _he_ 'sthe Heir of Slytherin."

Once back in the common room, Pansy, Tracy, and Theo left Harry alone, deciding to turn in for the night. Harry sat down in front of a table, staring blankly at the wood. It seemed that the longer that he was at Hogwarts, the less he seemed to know. He didn't even know his own heritage. The Dursleys had never said anything and he didn't dare ask any of his housemates for fear of looking stupid. For all he knew, he could actually be the Heir of Slytherin.

The Heir of Slytherin…Harry had the ability to speak Parseltongue, a talent usually only given to those that came from Salazar Slytherin. Now it seemed that whoever 'S' was, was a member of the House of Slytherin, most likely a direct descendent from the founder.

Harry's head hit the desk. Salazar Slytherin had lived over a thousand years ago. 'S' could be anyone, if all it stood for was 'Slytherin.'

* * *

 

Harry scanned the library bookshelves, looking for information on Salazar Slytherin's descendants. With the events of the night before, he was more determined to find out who 'S.' was.

"—if Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while."

Harry lifted his head and looked around the library as he heard his name being whispered. Through the bookshelves, he could see a group of Hufflepuffs with their heads bent close together.

"You definitely think it  _is_  Potter, then, Ernie?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. He had already figured out that they were talking about him being the Heir of Slytherin. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out.

"He's a Parselmouth," the boy named Ernie replied. "Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Plus he was Sorted into Slytherin and Slytherin turns out Dark wizards all the time. I bet that was why You-Know-Who attacked the Potter's that night. He didn't want any competition."

If Harry hadn't been so angry, he would have laughed at the absurdity of Ernie's claim. Instead, the boy stormed out of the library, fists clenching and unclenching. As Harry stomped down the corridors, he barely noticed where he was going until he literally ran into someone—Hagrid.

"Hi, Hagrid," Harry said.

"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid asked, moving to help Harry to his feet. Harry was careful to not touch Hagrid longer than was absolutely necessary, as the man was holding a dead rooster.

"What happened to that?" he asked. Hagrid glanced down at the dead rooster.

"Second one killed this term," he told the boy. "I need the Headmaster's permission ter put a charm around the hen coop so the foxes can't get in."

Harry glanced at the rooster again. It didn't look like it had been killed by a fox. It looked like it had been strangled.

"Yeh all righ'?" Hagrid asked again. "Yeh look upset."

Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Just people being prats," he said. "It's nothing."

And it really  _was_  nothing. Harry had known that people would start accusing him of being the Heir of Slytherin. He just didn't expect it to happen so soon or to hurt as much as it did.

Yet, when Harry heard the news of a third attack on Justin Finch-Fletchley and the ghost Nearly Headless Nick, he knew that he was going to have to get used to it. Everyone except for the Slytherins was convinced that he was the Heir of Slytherin and the actual Heir was getting away with the attacks on fellow students. If something didn't happen soon, Hogwarts would be shut down or someone would be expelled.

And that someone would probably be Harry, despite the lack of evidence.


	15. Year 2: Part 6

Ernie's rumors spread quickly around the school. Within days of the third attack, Harry was the prime suspect. Every student in the school refused to go near him, except for his housemates.

Once his yearmates discovered that no one else would sit by Harry at meals or in the classroom, they quickly took advantage of the opportunity. It wasn't often that they got privacy from the other houses in public areas. Harry constantly found himself surrounded by his fellow Slytherins.

"You're good for something, Potter," Draco Malfoy claimed one day. "When you're around, we don't need to worry about being inflicted with the stupidity of Mudbloods."

Normally Harry would have flinched at the language but he was too focused on doing his homework. Christmas sign-up was going around the common room and for once, Harry desperately wished that he could someplace beside Hogwarts for the holidays but he wasn't about to impose himself on a housemate.

"Are you sure you don't want to come home for the holidays?" Tracy asked as she received the list. "Mum and Dad wouldn't mind at all."

"I'm fine here," Harry said, trying to convince himself as much as Tracy. "Beside, I won't be alone. Draco is staying." Tracy wrinkled her nose, knowing how tense things could get between Harry and the other boy. She didn't predict that it would be a particularly enjoyable holiday for Harry.

The day before term ended, Harry happened to overhear an interesting conversation that left him confused and slightly anxious.

"It'll be ready when exactly?" Ron Weasley asked in a voice that was quieter than his normal level. That in itself was interesting. Why would the youngest Weasley boy feel the need to lower his voice? They were in the corridor, not a classroom, so there was really no need.

"Any day now," Hermione Granger replied in equally quiet tones.

"But when?" Ron prodded, wanting more than just a vague answer.

"Around Christmas," Hermione muttered. "I have to add the lacewings before it's fully ready but it still needs to boil for a few more days. I swear, this Polyjuice Potion is the toughest thing I've ever had to make."

Ron sighed. "I'm getting sick of waiting," he said. "There could be another attack any day."

"I know, Ron!" Hermione whispered heatedly. "But while we're waiting for the potion to be ready, there's one more thing we could do."

"What's that?" Ron asked. Hermione looked around to see if there was anyone listening in. Harry made it look like he was rummaging for something in his bag and tried to give off every impression that he wasn't paying attention to the duo. Hermione leaned closer to Ron.

"We need to find the Slytherin Common Room," she whispered.

Green eyes widening, Harry abandoned his search for the nonexistent object and scooted away from the pair as unobtrusively as possible.

Why were those two Gryffindors looking for the Slytherin common room? And what was Polyjuice Potion? They were up to something and it made Harry nervous. It obviously had something to do with the Chamber of Secrets, based off of Ron's comment about future attacks. It made him even more anxious once he looked up Polyjuice Potion and found its uses.

What were they up to?

* * *

 

Harry was glad when the holidays began. The quiet around the castle was soothing and he didn't have to suffer the suspicious looks of the students in the other houses. It almost seemed as if the past term, with the attacks and the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, hadn't existed.

Christmas morning was, like last year, a pleasant surprise for Harry. He hadn't expected to receive anything but his yearmates amazed him once again. From all but Tracy, Harry received candy and little insignificant trinkets. Hagrid had given Harry a questionable cake. Tracy and her parents had given him a book of wizarding fairytales, something that delighted the twelve-year-old. He hadn't known that the wizarding world had their own fairytales, though he shouldn't have been surprised. Every culture had their own stories, after all. Why would the wizarding world be any different?

There was one last present at the foot of Harry's bed. There was no note and no name of the giver. Cautiously unwrapping the precisely wrapped package, Harry's eyes became green balls of wonder as he revealed an antique set of pure silver Gobstones. It was an odd gift and clearly second hand, though it looked like the set had been well loved and much used. As Harry ran his fingers through the Gobstones, he wondered what the story was behind the stones and who had sent them. Would receiving anonymous presents for Christmas become a tradition at Hogwarts? Secretly, Harry hoped so even though the mystery would be maddening.

Harry was still mulling over the mystery present that night in the common room when he observed something strange. Normally it wouldn't have been any cause for concern, but the Slytherin still hadn't forgotten about the conversation he had overheard between Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.

He had been in the common room, sitting in a high-backed chair, flipping idly through a book when Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle entered. Crabbe and Goyle looked around the common room like they had never seen it before. That was the first suspicious thing. Crabbe and Goyle never looked around the common room. They weren't that observant. Usually all their attention was focused on Draco and what the blond boy would do or say next.

The interaction started normally enough, with Malfoy showing off an article that his father had sent him. Harry had already seen it. It was meaningless but it gave Malfoy a good laugh. Crabbe and Goyle should have found it hilarious but instead, they barely reacted other than a few weak laughs and Crabbe's complaint of a stomachache. That peaked Harry's attention. Crabbe had a stomach of iron and he, nor any Slytherin, would willingly complain about such a common ailment.

Malfoy didn't seem to notice anything odd.

Inevitably, the conversation turned towards the recent attacks.

"I wish I knew who they are," Malfoy grumbled loudly. "I would gladly help them. I wish Father would tell me more about what happened last time"

"But you must have some idea," Harry overheard Goyle saying.

"You know I don't," he snapped. "Otherwise I would gladly be helping them. All I know is that the last time it was opened, someone died and the person responsible was expelled. Father isn't being very forthcoming."

Well, that was still more than Harry had known. Of course, he hadn't been asking questions exactly. He had just been trying to stay under the radar—unsuccessfully.

The conversation didn't carry on for much longer. Minutes later, Crabbe and Goyle were abruptly rushing from the common room, nearly bowling over a few Slytherins entering after the Christmas Feast had come to an end.

"What are you looking at, Potter?" Malfoy snapped, seeing Harry watching him. Harry gave the blond an indifferent look.

"Crabbe and Goyle are acting very odd," he commented vaguely. Draco rolled his eyes.

"That wasn't Crabbe and Goyle," he said. "That was a poor act of someone pretending to be them. Even I'm not that dimwitted."

"So why did you let them in?" Harry asked, propping a hand under his chin. Malfoy shrugged.

"I figured I should give people what they want sometimes. Besides, it was an easy way to clear my name," he said. "Now do you have any idea who that even was?"

Harry had a very good idea. However, he wasn't about to reveal that information, especially to Draco of all people.

"A few," he said cryptically and went back to his book.

* * *

 

Harry was disappointed when the holidays ended. With the return of a new term meant a return of the stares and a return of the cruel whispers, blaming Harry for everything that went wrong.

But eventually Harry learned how to keep his head down and to avoid the stares and rumors. He couldn't get away from them completely but at least he wasn't forced to suffer the unwanted attention anymore than was absolutely necessary.

Harry found refuge in the library. The library, he discovered, had various nooks and crannies that other students weren't aware of and that made for easy hiding spots. Of course, when Harry couldn't avoid the other students of Hogwarts, there was always the Slytherin common room.

One of the most memorable events, in Harry's opinion, was when the second years chose their electives from third year until fifth. He wasn't quite sure what to pick, so he went along with what his yearmates were picking. Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, and Study of Ancient Runes were the final three that Harry picked, though the young Slytherin considered also picking up some extra-curricular studies as well. Ancient Studies sounded particularly intriguing.

There wasn't another attack until the spring. The months after the holiday had been spent in uneasy tension, with students wondering when the Heir of Slytherin would strike next. However, after winter had ended, many of the students had pushed the attacks and the Chamber of Secrets to the back of their mind.

Until the fourth attack.

Harry was inwardly furious when he had heard of the attack. The rumors had been dying down when Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater were attacked. With the new double attack, the rumors came back in full force. The new curfew and rules caused even further panic. However, this time students had even more reason to fear further attacks. Hagrid had been arrested and Dumbledore had left the school.

Severus Snape had been there when it happened. He had gone down to Hagrid's to grab a drink and to ponder what to do at the end of term. There had been something plaguing his mind since the beginning of the school year and he still hadn't come up with solution.

Hagrid had been surprised that the Potions professor had come down to visit but didn't question it. Over the years Severus Snape had casually visited him on multiple occasions. He suspected that the man longed for some company and Hagrid was privy to things in the man's life that no one else knew.

So, Hagrid just listened while Professor Snape talked.

"What do I do?" Severus asked, more to himself than to the half-giant, pacing around the tiny apartment.

"Yeh'll figure somethin' out," Hagrid said in a placating manner, filling up his tankard. "O' course there's not much yeh  _can_  do in this situation."

Severus sat down at Hagrid's table and rubbed his forehead.

"I can't stand to see my son suffer there any more," he admitted. "But revealing information of that sort to Dumbledore is very risky."

"Yeh're clever enough to get 'round Dumbledore," Hagrid said. "Isn' the safety o' yer son the more important thing?"

Snape sighed. The larger man had a point but he had kept this secret for so long. It was bad enough that Hagrid knew about his son but if Dumbledore found out…

He didn't even want to imagine what would happen, what he would go through.

There was a loud knock on the door, drawing Severus out of his thoughts. Hagrid looked extremely nervous, dropping his tankard on the wooden floor. With a dull flick of his wand, Professor Snape cleared up the mess as Hagrid opened the door.

"Good evening, Hagrid."

Dumbledore, the last person Snape wanted to see at the moment. He looked unusually serious and barely glanced in Snape's direction. With a feeling of dread in his stomach, the Potions professor watched as Cornelius Fudge entered the hut, dressed in normal appalling fashion, complete with colors that made Severus cringe.

Glancing over at Hagrid, Professor Snape had an idea of what this was about. Almost immediately, Hagrid began to protest his innocence.

"Hagrid's record's against him," Fudge was saying, which caused the Potions master to frown.

"But is there any actual proof?" he heard himself asking. "Anything that points him being at the scene of the crime? Any motive?"

With his words, Severus found himself faced with Cornelius Fudge's disapproving glare.

"The Ministry's got to act," he said stiffly.

"So someone who is most likely innocent will suffer so the Ministry of Magic can act like it's doing something. Really, I must applaud our judicial system," Severus said in a dry tone. Fudge turned an unhealthy shade of purple.

"The parents of the children have to be shown that the Ministry is taking action!" Fudge snapped.

Before anything more could be said, there was another rap on the door. Dumbledore answered it and Snape rose an eyebrow as his old schoolmate entered the hut, smiling like a cat that had just finished off a rich bowl of cream.

"What're you doin' here?" Hagrid demanded. Lucius didn't seem intimidated by the man who towered over him.

"I called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here," Lucius announced. "Minister, it's good to see you again."

"And what do you need with me?" Dumbledore asked, voice cold and quiet. Lucius's smile became even more satisfied as he took out a roll of parchment. Snape had a feeling that he wasn't going to like what would be revealed.

"I have here an Order of Suspension. With all these attacks, the governors feel like you're losing control."

Even Fudge looked alarmed by this new development. Snape had to admit that the timing was curious. Dumbledore being removed as Headmaster on the same night that Hagrid was arrested? There would certainly be grand amounts of speculation.

Still, it provided Severus with options that hadn't been provided to him before. With Dumbledore removed as Headmaster, Minerva McGonagall would become the temporary Headmistress and Severus himself would become the Deputy Headmaster. That provided him with enough power to access and change student records without anyone being the wiser. Maybe Dumbledore didn't need to find out about Severus's secret after all….

Cold and calculating, the Potions master watched the rest of the events take place. Eventually it ended with the other four occupants of the cabin taking their leave, two willingly and the other two…not so willingly. That left Severus alone with Hagrid's mutt Fang, who looked confused with the turn of events.

"A dreadful turn of events," Snape muttered to the animal as he stood. "But highly opportunistic." If everything went according to plan, Snape could have his son out of future harm's way and into a safe home during the summer within the week. He would just need a witness to agree and sign a few lines, but he was positive that Professor Burbage would be willing to be that witness for him. She seem to be infatuated with the Potions professor, something which made Professor Snape uncomfortable, though he never failed to take advantage of her affections when he needed her help.

Mind racing, the Potions professor grabbed a handful of dog treats and bribed Fang out of the small hut. Until Hagrid returned, it looked like the animal would be staying with him.

Harry was outraged at the claims that Hagrid was behind the attacks. Anyone who had met the man would know that he was incapable of murder or attempted murder, especially of Muggleborns. Hagrid was too softhearted to harbor any grudges against students.

Unfortunately, Harry's opinion seemed to be meaningless. Lockhart seemed to be convinced that the danger was gone, along with a few of the dimmer students. The rest of the faculty and students were fearful with the departure of Dumbledore.

Determined to prove Lockhart wrong, Harry had taken it upon himself to researching the monster in the Chamber of Secrets. If he could find the monster and the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, maybe he had a chance of proving that Hagrid wasn't responsible for its release. Of course, Harry didn't imagine facing down the monster. He always purposely turned his thoughts elsewhere when he got close to imagining the outcome of such an event.

After a few nights of little sleep and lots of thinking, Harry had reached some conclusions about the monster. One, it had a voice that only Harry could hear. Why was that? What abilities did he have that the other students of Hogwarts didn't? The only obvious answer was Parseltongue, which meant the monster had to be a snake of some sorts.

Two, it had the ability to kill but so far it hadn't or all the victims thus far had been lucky. But how was it possible for someone to be Petrified rather than killed?

Three, how was the monster getting around without being seen? Monsters, as the stories went, were usually very large and surely someone would have seen something out of the ordinary. Harry doubted that it had the capability to turn invisible. He hadn't come across any kind of snake in his research that had the ability to turn invisible.

As Harry scoured the books, he continually felt that something was missing. He felt like the answer he was seeking was just around the corner.

He didn't get a hint of what the monster could possibly be until Harry decided to idly flip through  _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , using the book as a last resort. No other books had been any help, even those in the restricted section.

If Harry hadn't been so desperate to find any information, he probably wouldn't have noticed the sentence.

_There have been no recorded sightings of a Basilisk, male or female, in Wizarding Britain for over 400 years. Most wizards and witches nowadays believe that these giant snakes are extinct and are now the creatures of horror stories and myths, designed to frighten children._

The giant snake part intrigued Harry. It was a snake, like the monster, and its giant size would easily classify it as a monster. With a name now, not just a general description, Harry's research became easier.

The first book Harry looked in had a couple of pages ripped out. Unfortunately, one of the pages that had been ripped out was the page that had the information regarding basilisks on it. Unfortunate, but the Hogwarts library often had multiple copies of the books, provided they hadn't come from the Restricted Section.

It didn't take long for Harry to find the second copy of the book, this time with all the pages inside it. The book was a gold mine of information. Most of the information made sense, except Harry still couldn't figure out why the victims had only been Petrified, not killed. The Basilisk had a murderous stare, so why had no one been killed?

Unless…

There was water on the floor when Mrs. Norris was attacked. A reflection.

Colin Creevey apparently had his camera with him when he was attacked. If he had been looking through his camera when the monster came around, he wouldn't have looked directly in its eyes.

Justin Finch-Fletchley might have seen the monster through Nearly Headless Nick. Again, not directly looking the monster in its eyes.

Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater had a mirror with them when they were attacked. Again, a reflection.

It was possible…

Now the only questions that remained were how the monster was getting around and who was helping it?

And of course, where was the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets?

Now that Harry had an idea of what kind of monster was terrorizing the school, he had a better idea of how to defend himself should he happen to hear the voice again. Physically, he didn't stand a chance of single-handedly killing a Basilisk but magically…

Well, the article didn't say that the crowing of a rooster had to come from an  _actual_  rooster. There were spells to get around that.

Magically, defeating a Basilisk seemed too easy.


	16. Year 2: Part 7

The final week of classes was one of the busiest Harry could remember. Once Professor McGonagall announced that the school would still be having exams, he was forced to study more than he had all year. Harry already knew that he was bound to struggle in Defense Against the Dark Arts because Lockhart had done a poor job of teaching this year. History of Magic would be his other difficult exam.

In the midst of all his studying and three days before exams would be, Professor Snape pulled Harry off to the side and into his office. Harry sat on the edge of the chair he had been provided, nervous. As far as he knew, he had done nothing wrong or against school rules for the past few weeks.

Then Professor Snape surprised him.

"What are your plans for the summer, Mr. Potter?" he asked. Harry started to shrug before remembering that his Head of House preferred verbal answers.

"I'm not sure, sir," he said quietly, eyes on the floor. "I'd really like not to go back to my relatives, though."

The Slytherin Head of House nodded. He had expected as much.

"I'm in the process of making arrangements for your summer," he informed the boy. "I make no promises yet but I will do my best to keep you out of their clutches."

Harry's head shot up and he looked at the man in surprise.

"Really? I might not have to go back?" he asked in poorly hidden delight. It had been a dream of his to leave the Dursleys but he never would have guessed that it would come true.

Professor Snape nodded, a small smile on his lips as he watched Harry's reaction. He couldn't do much for his son but he did whatever he could.

"I will inform you after exams where you'll be staying," he said. Harry nodded eagerly and got to his feet.

"Can I go now sir?" he asked. Professor Snape nodded.

"Straight to your next class. Join your classmates if you can on your journey," he ordered. "Precautions still must be taken." Harry nodded in understanding. Not even the monster that lurked the school could ruin his spirits at the current moment.

The rest of the students' spirits were high as well. Professor McGonagall had made an announcement that the Mandrakes were ready to be cut up and that a restorative potion would be administered to the Petrified students.

Harry was approaching the corridor where the first message had been written when he noticed something strange. A first year Gryffindor, a girl with Weasley blood, was in the corridor, looking pale. She was visibly shaking. The second year Slytherin slowed and hid his body around the corner, with just his head showing so he could see what was happening.

With shaking hands, the girl wrote large letters on the wall, below the first message. With her body blocking the way, Harry couldn't make out what she was writing. However, it looked like she was writing with blood and that made his stomach tighten in dread.

When the girl stepped aside and walked into the nearest girl's bathroom to possibly wash up, Harry's stomach tightened even more. The words she had written were foreboding.

_Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever._

Whose skeleton? The girl's? But why would she write her own death message? Was it a prank? Harry didn't believe that was the case. Which meant…

Had a Gryffindor opened the Chamber of Secrets? A Gryffindor of all people? And a first year nonetheless? Nothing else seemed to make sense. There was no monster in sight and no one seemed to be threatening or forcing the girl to write the message. Plus the timing would be logical. One last message before the victims were awakened and before the attacker would be named. A suicide note from someone who didn't want to face the repercussions.

There was only one thing that didn't add up in this scenario. Why had she gone into the girl's bathroom instead of heading straight for the Chamber?

Harry didn't take time to ponder that small detail. Instead, he did what any other student should do. He went to find a professor.

The first professor Harry came across happened to be Professor McGonagall, who was surprised and slightly angry that he was wandering the halls alone.

"Mr. Potter—" she began but Harry wildly gestured for her to stop and for her to follow him. Professor McGonagall followed but only because she knew that if she didn't, she wouldn't get the chance to reprimand the boy.

Harry led her straight to the second message. As Professor McGonagall read it, her face paled and her hand flew to her mouth.

"Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever," she whispered. "Merlin, no." She turned to Harry, who was looking nervous. "Did you see who wrote this, Mr. Potter?" she asked urgently. Harry nodded.

"One of your first year Gryffindors," he said quietly. "A girl with red hair. She went into the bathroom afterward and I think she meant herself."

Professor McGonagall's eyes dimmed.

"Ginny Weasley," she muttered, hands shaking. "Did you see anything else, Mr. Potter? The monster or someone else?"

Harry shook his head.

"Professor, I think I might have an idea of what the monster is, though," he said quickly. "I've been hearing this voice in the walls and since the incident at the Dueling Cub, I've been wondering if this voice was some type of snake."

Professor McGonagall gave the boy a sharp look.

"And what kind of snake do you think it might be?" she asked. She doubted that a second year could figure out something that the professors had tried to work out all year but stranger things had happened.

"A basilisk," Harry stated in a confident tone. Professor McGonagall's eyes widened. She didn't know much about the creature but what she did know fit. A snake with a murderous stare that could petrify its victims as well. Yes, Potter could be on to something.

A determined glint came into her eye as she cast one last glance at the message.

"Follow me, Mr. Potter," she said. "I'm going to need your help relaying and explaining this information to the other professors."

Harry's eyes widened. She wanted him to speak in front of all the professors at once? His hands shook at the thought. He hated the idea of public speaking. He had always messed up in primary school whenever they had to give speeches.

Harry sat in the staff break room nervously, waiting for the other professors to answer Professor McGonagall's summons. The few that had been in there when she made the announcement were staring at him curiously. Once all the teachers were assembled, Professor McGonagall began to talk.

"A student has been taken right into the Chamber itself," she announced. "Another message was left, saying that her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever."

Following her statement were gasps of shocks and horrified looks. Harry spotted a few professors who looked ready to fall out of their seats. Professor McGonagall continued with her announcements.

"We have reason to believe that the student taken into the Chamber was also the Heir of Slytherin and that she wrote the message herself."

"Which student?" one of the female professors asked. Professor McGonagall looked around the room to gauge possible reactions before she said the name.

"Ginny Weasley."

Harry gripped the arm of the chair he was sitting on tightly as the teachers reacted. A few of them shouted in outrage and shock. Others were visibly shaking. Only one or two seemed to remember that he was in the room.

Professor Sprout spoke up.

"Are we going to send the students home?" she asked. Harry's eyes widened. No! Hogwarts couldn't close. It would kill him if he couldn't return to Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall took a deep breath.

"Mr. Potter spotted her writing the message on the walls. If we can move fast enough, we can destroy the monster and recover Miss Weasley."

"Minerva, are you telling me that after all this time, you know what the monster is that we face?" Professor Snape's voice was deadly quiet. "That you know where the entrance to the Chamber lies?"

Professor McGonagall faced the Slytherin Head of House.

"Mr. Potter suspects and has given sufficient enough explanations that the monster we face is a basilisk," she said coolly. Professor Snape quirked an eyebrow.

"And what are those explanations?" he asked, turning his gaze on Harry, who shook.

"The voices in the walls that I can hear that no one else can," he mumbled. "I'm the only Parseltongue in the school so it would make sense why I can hear a snake. I also remember Hagrid saying that roosters had been killed, which are fatal to the creature. It's been petrifying its victims instead of killing them because no one has looked it directly in the eye."

"Is that true?" Madam Hooch asked. Professor McGonagall gave a nod.

"I believe it is," she said.

"And the entrance to the Chamber?" Professor Snape pressed. That gave everyone pause. None of the professors knew where to begin and Harry knew less about the castle than they did.

It was Professor Flitwick that came up with the first idea.

"It's odd," he began in his squeaky voice, "that the corridor where the messages are written is where the first attack on Mrs. Norris and the last attack on Miss Weasley took place. Might the entrance be somewhere in that corridor?"

A few of the professors shivered at the thought. Professor Flitwick continued.

"The girl who was killed last time the Chamber was opened was found in the girl's bathroom in that same corridor."

"And Ginny walked into the bathroom after she wrote the message," Harry realized out loud.

"Myrtle," Professor Sprout breathed. Professors McGonagall and Snape shared a look.

"We should move fast," Professor McGonagall said. "Pomona, I want you to stay behind and work on the restorative potion. Make some extra doses in case…" Professor McGonagall was unable to finish the sentence. Every professor was aware that there was a high risk for something to go wrong.

"Professor Burbage, it would be best if you could locate our missing Professor Lockhart and send him to meet us at the corridor entrance." Professor McGonagall continued after a few seconds. "Professor Vector, firecall the Aurors and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Severus, Filius, and any other professor that feels confident in their abilities should come with me to the corridor so we can look for the entrance and formulate a plan."

"What about Mr. Potter?" Madam Hooch asked, glancing over at the twelve-year-old.

"I'll stay with Mr. Potter here in the break room," Madam Pince volunteered. "I'll admit that my spell work isn't up to par and that I'd be better off on the sidelines."

The next few minutes were a flurry of activity. The professors with assignments went about their duties. Other professors either made their way to the dormitories to reassure students while more went to the fireplaces to wait for incoming Aurors and Ministry of Magic workers. Others were stationed around the corridors to watch for anything suspicious and to direct the Aurors to Myrtle's bathroom.

While this was happening, Harry sat quietly in the corridor. Madam Pince had offered him a book to read to take his mind off the current events but Harry was too nervous and distracted. He felt useless and was wishing that he was in the dormitory with his yearmates. Surely they had noticed he was missing by now.

Shouts in the corridor outside the staff break room caused Harry to jump. Madam Pince looked at the door sharply and strode over.

"What is going on?" she demanded. A tall man met her at the door.

"We need Mr. Potter," he said. "It's an urgent manner."

Harry stared at the man in terrified curiosity.

"Whatever for?" Madam Pince demanded. "It's not safe out there."

"Exactly!" Harry heard Professor Sinistra say from outside the room. "He's just a boy. Surely there's some other way."

"It's the quickest way," the Auror snapped. "Mr. Potter, follow me at once."

Silently and trembling, Harry got to his feet. Madam Pince glared at the Auror. As Harry stepped into the hall, Professor Sinistra was immediately by his side.

"What's going on?" he asked as they made their way down the hall.

"We suspect we've found the entrance to the Chamber," the Auror said in a crisp voice. "However, if we're correct then it can only be opened by a Parselmouth. You're the only one we can bring in quickly to open it up."

Harry swallowed nervously. No pressure or anything.

The girl's bathroom was crowded. A squad of Aurors was crowded around the sinks but stepped off to the side when Harry approached. Myrtle floated near the ceiling, watching in curiosity.

"That sink," the Auror said. "There's a snake on the side of one of the taps." Harry stared at the sink with wide eyes and he slowly approached it. He knew that he was supposed to say something in Parseltongue but he wasn't sure if he could do it with everyone else watching. He had only spoken in Parseltongue when confronted with a real snake.

Taking a deep breath, Harry concentrated on the tiny snake. He willed himself to ignore the onlookers. They didn't exist. No one existed besides him and the snake, which he forced himself to believe that it was alive.

"Open up," he hissed and backed away when the tap glowed with a white light. Harry quickly retreated when the sink began to move and revealed a pipe. Professor Snape guided him to the back of the room.

"Excellent job, Mr. Potter," one of the Aurors said. "Everyone, wands at the ready."

"Sinistra, take Mr. Potter back to his dormitory," Professor Snape ordered but his order was refuted almost immediately.

"We might still need him, Professor Snape," an Auror said. "There might be similar entrances down there."

Professor Snape's face was murderous.

"If you think I'm going to allow you to bring one of my students down into that  _place—_ " he spat. The Auror stepped away.

"We might not have another choice. Believe me, none of us like the idea." Another Auror spoke up. Professor Snape turned his deadly glare on the speaker.

"We are here to rescue a student," he hissed. "Not send another one into danger."

"We won't if we don't need him," the Head Auror spoke up. "It's just a precaution."

One by one, the squad of Aurors went down the pipe, quickly followed by a few members of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. A group of Aurors stayed behind, along with most of the professors. Only Professors Flitwick, McGonagall, and Snape went down the pipe.

Harry wondered how the group below was going to stay in contact with those that stayed behind but then he spotted the magically-enhanced radio.

"—must be miles under the school," a voice came over the radio. "Probably under the lake. No wonder no one's found it for all these years."

"Amazing it's still standing," a second person commented. "Probably loads of preservation charms on the place."

"Close your eyes at any sight of movement," the Head Auror ordered. "If you can, keep your eyes on the ground. I'd rather you be Petrified than killed."

"Sir, we've found something!" The call was distant, as if the speaker wasn't near the radio's partner. Following the cry was a flurry of activity.

"—snake skin—"

"—absolutely huge!"

After the discovery of the snake skin, things seemed to calm down for a bit. There was an occasional report but it was nothing too grim.

Then came a string of swearing from the Aurors.

"Absolutely not!" Professor McGonagall was overheard saying. "I won't allow it."

"There's no other way—"

"I am the headmistress of this school currently and I say that I won't allow it!" Professor McGonagall said sharply.

"I'm the Head Auror and the safety of the entire school outweighs the minor risk presented to one boy."

"Minor risk? How is facing a basilisk a minor risk?" Professor McGonagall sounded outraged.

"There's an entire squad of Aurors down here, not to mention a squad of people who are used to dealing with magical creatures,' the Head Auror snapped.

"And how many have ever actually faced a basilisk?" Professor Snape asked in a drawl. Silence was his only response.

"Bring the boy down," an Auror ordered over the radio. The Aurors waiting in the bathroom glanced in Harry's direction. Harry gave a tiny nod to signify that he was ready and stepped toward the pipe.

There was an Auror waiting for Harry at the end of the pipe. Harry grimaced as he tried to wipe off his robes, a feat that only ended in covering his hands with slime from the pipe. His grimace grew as he followed the Auror and heard the crunching of bones underneath his feet.

Harry was led to a wall that had two serpents carved into it. The surrounding designs were intricate but the only thing Harry could focus on were the snakes and their emerald eyes.

"Once again, Mr. Potter," the Head Auror ordered. "And then stay close by Professor Snape."

Harry took a deep breath.

"Open," he hissed at the snakes.

Harry stepped away quickly as the doors opened. Professor Snape set a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Keep your eyes focused on the ground," he ordered quietly. "Close them if you're ordered to. Try to stay out of the way." Harry gave a small nod and entered the newly opened chamber once everyone else had already gone through.

Professor Snape directed Harry to stand against one of the pillars closest to the doors, in case a quick escape was needed. Already the Aurors were examining the large, eerie chamber.

"We found the girl!" one of the Aurors in the front called to the rest of the group. She approached Ginny and knelt down to feel for a pulse. It was faint but it was there. The girl was white and cold.

"She's alive," the Auror announced. "Unconscious but alive." Aurors trained in the art of healing rushed forward. Harry sighed in relief at the announcement.

"She won't wake," a cool voice said. The Aurors' attention snapped away from Ginny to the boy. "She'll never wake again," the boy continued. "Her life will become mine."

"Who are you?" the Head Auror demanded. " _What_  are you? Certainly not human."

"Not yet," the boy replied. "I'm merely a memory."

Professor Snape repressed a shiver. The voice of the boy was strangely familiar.

"How does a memory come to exist in a form like that?" another Auror asked.

"I've been preserved in a diary," the memory explained. "And now, with a sacrifice, I shall come back to life."

"Or we can destroy you by destroying the diary," the Head Auror commented grimly. The memory smirked.

"It can't be destroyed easily. There's not many things in this world that will manage to destroy that diary. Plus, you have my basilisk to deal with."

Shivers ran through the chamber's occupants.

"Wands at the ready," the Head Auror announced, clearly expecting a battle. "Someone grab the diary." His orders were obeyed without question. The Auror closest to Ginny picked up the diary and shuddered at the sensation of pure evil. The memory-boy opened his mouth and hissed. Harry could just barely hear the hissing from his spot on the opposite end of the chamber but he understood.

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."

The statue that loomed above Ginny began to move. The mouth opened slowly. There was movement from within the mouth. The Aurors tensed and moved into battle-ready position.

"Take out the eyes," someone called out. "Aim for the eyes."

Harry heard another hiss as the basilisk emerged from the mouth.

"Kill them."

As the basilisk attacked, there was a barrage of spells. The ground shook as the basilisk moved, unsure of which Auror to attack first. Severus Snape was faintly proud when he heard a few of the Aurors use spells that he had created.

Despite having scales that could repel most spells, the basilisk was easily confused by the number of Aurors it faced. It tried to take on one Auror at a time, instead of multiple at once. With a well-placed spell, it was almost too easy to take out the eyes.

"Professor," Harry asked, with his eyes closed tight, "why aren't they using a spell that will imitate a rooster's crow? Isn't that fatal to a basilisk."

A smirk crossed the potions professor's lips.

"Because despite how talented Aurors are at casting spells and fighting, most really aren't that bright to know their enemy," he responded and winced as the Basilisk managed to take out three Aurors with its tail. They flung against the wall and didn't stir again, unconscious from the force of the throw.

"Stay here," Professor Snape ordered. The numbers of the Aurors were down enough that he felt he needed to join the fight.

"Professor—" Harry started and opened his eyes. Severus was already striding away, wand in hand. The basilisk had fought its way to the center of the chamber and he was determined that it wouldn't get any closer to Harry.

Aurors were flung away from the now blind basilisk as Severus approached. Even without its eyes, the basilisk could still smell and hear its opponents. With a well-aimed flick of its tail, the basilisk sent Severus and another Auror flying when they came too close. The potions master winced as he landed on the ground. The snake slithered further along the chamber, hissing and spitting. A few of the Aurors cried out in shock when its venom began to eat its way through their robes.

Cursing under his breath, Severus got to his feet and gestured for Professor Flitwick to approach him. Professor McGonagall also came closer.

"We can't fight it physically," Snape pointed out. "We need to use a long distance attack."

"But what?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Impersonation spell," Professor Snape explained. "Of a rooster's crow. It's fatal to a basilisk, according to sources."

"Of course," Professor Flitwick gasped. "It's the easiest way."

"On the count of three," Professor Snape said. "Hopefully all the noise won't cover it up if there's three of us." The other two professors nodded.

"One," Professor Flitwick began.

"Two," Professor McGonagall continued. Severus took a deep breath.

"Three," he said and muttered the incantation. The basilisk reared to its tallest height, preparing to strike its next victim with its jaws.

Loud, obnoxious crowing sounded throughout the chamber. The basilisk screeched in pain. Harry could only watch as the strength left its body. As it died upon hearing the crows, the body began to fall. The shadow of the falling body covered Harry and it was then that he knew. As the large body began to sway and descend, Harry knew that he wouldn't be able to escape in time. The basilisk's corpse would crush him.

Severus's eyes widened in horror as he realized the danger his son was in. He should have never have left him.

" _Protego Totalum!"_  The spell left his lips as soon as he realized what was happening. He didn't even stop and think. As he did so, he could hear others Aurors calling out shield charms and protection spells to prevent harm from coming to the boy.

Harry crouched, waiting for the body to fall on him. Fortunately, the shield charms covered him quickly enough that the basilisk fell onto the invisible shield and rolled off to hit the ground beside him. The shield charms collapsed as well and Harry cried out with pain as some spare debris knocked into him.

"No!" the memory cried as he realized that his basilisk was dead. He was stronger now, and looked more like a person but he was still blurry around the edges. There was still time to destroy the diary and revive Ginny Weasley.

The diary lay at the end of the chamber, abandoned in the midst of the fighting. Professor McGonagall summoned it to her when she spotted the memory's attention on it.

"How do we destroy it?" she asked, trying not to show her repulsion upon touching the tainted object.

"Fiendfire," Professor Flitwick offered while Professor Snape made a suggestion.

"Basilisk venom."

Professor McGonagall gave the potions professor an odd look.

"Basilisk venom is rumored to be able to kill or destroy nearly anything," he explained. "There are very few antidotes to it, so it should theoretically work."

A nearby Auror passed over one of the basilisk fangs that had fallen to the ground in the middle of the battle. Professor McGonagall's jaw tightened as she carefully took the fang and set the diary on the ground. The memory charged in desperation to save the diary as Professor McGonagall plunged the fang into the diary, going straight through the cover and pages with one strike.

Harry's hands covered his ears, as there was a deafening scream. His eyes scrunched together in pain. When he opened his eyes again, the memory was gone.

For the first time since entering the chamber, there was silence except for the heavy breathing of the exhausted Aurors.

"Good job," the Head Auror told the professors. Professor Snape ignored him and approached Harry.

"Come now, Potter," he said in a sharp voice. "It's time to go."

Harry didn't protest. He didn't want to stay in the chamber any longer than was absolutely necessary. Professor McGonagall picked up the diary before trailing after the two. Slowly sound began to fill the chamber as Aurors relayed commands over the radio and the few Aurors trained in healing began to look over the wakening Ginny and their unconscious squad members.

Reaching the pipe, Severus Snape ran into a problem. He wasn't sure how to get back up. A rope or levitation charms made no sense, as they were most likely miles below the school. Apparation would be impossible due to the charms and wards on and around Hogwarts. There were only two other options that he could immediately think of. Flying or a Portkey. Since there were no brooms, a Portkey was the only option.

Foot tapping impatiently, Severus was forced to wait for the Aurors. They came within minutes, one carrying Ginny Weasley.

"All right there, Miss Weasley?" Professor McGonagall asked. Ginny paled at the sight of the professors but nodded weakly.

"Madam Pomfrey is waiting up top to check Miss Weasley and Mr. Potter over," an Auror said quickly. "We have Portkeys prepared and authorized that will go straight to the hospital wing." The Auror pulled out an old quill and offered it to Professor McGonagall, who took it with a curt nod. Severus placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and gripped it tightly.

"Touch the quill with a finger," he ordered quietly. Harry obeyed. "On the count of three. One…two…three."

It felt like something hooked behind Harry's navel and the next thing the boy knew, he was on the ground in the hospital wing.

"Severus, Minerva, thank Merlin!" Madam Pomfrey cried. "Mr. Potter! And Miss Weasley!"

With quick movements, Harry and Ginny were placed on beds to be checked over.

"You're just in time," Madam Pomfrey told the two professors. "We were just about to administer the restorative potions to the patients. Were there any casualties?"

Professor McGonagall shook her head.

"No, thank Merlin," she replied.

Harry relaxed into the bed and tried to block out his surroundings. It had been a long, stressful day and he was ready to take a nap.

Professor Snape glanced over at the boy a few minutes later and his eyes softened the tiniest amount when he saw Harry was fast asleep. It was a good thing that the boy was because he was spared questioning from the Aurors and the Weasley family. Apparently while they had been fighting the basilisk, the governors had reinstated Professor Dumbledore to the school as headmaster and the Weasley family had been contacted. Molly and Arthur were horrified to hear about the basilisk and the memory boy.

At the mention of the memory and the diary, Professor Dumbledore's eyes narrowed a fraction.

"Minerva, might I see this diary?" he asked. Professor McGonagall passed the diary over and Professor Dumbledore examined it. His eyes landed on the name engraved into the diary.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," he muttered. "It all makes sense."

"Albus?" Minerva asked.

"Miss Weasley cannot be held accountable for any of her actions," Professor Dumbledore announced to the Aurors and the Weasley family. "I believe that the memory in this diary possessed her. It is certainly something that the former owner of the diary would do."

"Who was the former owner?" the Head Auror asked. Dumbledore sighed.

"Voldemort," he announced to the room. Severus Snape felt his knees weaken ever so slightly. That was why he had recognized the voice of the memory. The Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord had nearly come back to life.

It was a thought that was beyond terrifying. Even the Aurors were shaken by the thought.

When Harry woke up the next day, it was to a festive mood. Dumbledore was back as headmaster, the Chamber of Secrets was officially closed and the monster within it had been destroyed. The previously Petrified victims had been awakened and Hagrid had been released from Azkaban. Lockhart had quit his position as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Slytherin had won the House Cup, and exams had been cancelled as a part of the celebrations. Harry had missed the celebration feast but when he awoke, Professor Snape was waiting for him with the best news of all.

"I've arranged things with the Ministry," Professor Snape said. "They owed you a favor for helping them with the Chamber and I figured that this would be the best way for them to repay you. You'll stay with me for the first two weeks of summer and then you'll stay with the Davis's for the rest of the summer. The Davis's have applied to be your guardians until you turn seventeen and everything should be finalized by the end of the month."

Harry's grin overtook his face and before the young Slytherin could restrain himself, he had hugged the potions professor. Professor Snape stiffened upon first contact but gingerly returned the hug after a few seconds.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said fervently. "Thank you so much."

Severus gave a curt nod.

When the final day came, Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express with his yearmates, chattering and smiling brightly. Since discovering what Harry had gone through, Tracy and the other Slytherin girls had barely left the boy alone, interrogating him for every last detail. Draco had sulked for most of the last week but it had been easily ignored.

When they reached King's Cross station, Professor Snape was waiting for his son, ready to take him home for the first time.


	17. Year 3: Part 1

Harry tried to contain his excitement as the taxi pulled up in front of a small flat near Hampstead wasn't the same place Professor Snape had taken him the previous summer but it seemed much nicer. It was definitely newer.

Harry looked around the flat with wide green eyes. It was on the small size but he thought it looked absolutely wonderful. It was clean and minimally decorated but Harry really hadn't expected anything else. After all, Professor Snape lived at Hogwarts for most of the year. He didn't need much outside of the castle. Despite this, it still managed to feel welcoming.

Professor Snape found it hard not to smile as Harry wandered around the flat he had rented for the summer. He had considered taking the boy to Spinner's End again but had ultimately decided not to return to his childhood home. The house on Spinner's End was old and dreary, no place for a child. There were also too many people that knew about the place. The last thing Severus wanted was for Dumbledore or a former Death Eater to pop by for a visit.

After Harry got over the initial delight of inspecting the flat, he noticed something the flat lacked that Spinner's End had had. A guest bedroom.

It shouldn't have surprised him. Until this summer Professor Snape had lived by himself. He would have only needed one bedroom.

Noticing Harry's confusion, Professor Snape began showing him a few things the boy had missed.

"I'll transfigure the couch into a bed at night," he informed the boy. "There are extra towels in the closet next to the bathroom, along with sheets and pillows. There's always fruit in the fridge which you can take."

"What about Spinner's End?" Harry asked.

"Spinner's End isn't the best spot during the summer," Professor Snape said smoothly. "The only reason I brought you there last summer was because I had been working on some important potions and couldn't leave them completely unattended."

Harry nodded, still grinning. He was excited for this summer. He didn't have to deal with the Dursleys anymore, which was like a dream come true.

The two weeks with Professor Snape went better than Harry had predicted they would go. He was allowed to do all the things he had seen Dudley do, such as watch television and eat as much as he wanted. Harry had quickly discovered that the Slytherin Head of House was an excellent cook. Under Professor Snape's watchful eye, Harry managed to complete most of his summer homework and a few times throughout the week, the two wizards would leave the flat to go shopping or to just go on a walk. On the nights when they stayed in, Harry could convince Professor Snape to bring out a board game or two for them to play. He even convinced the man to play Gobstones with him.

Harry enjoyed the walks the most. It wasn't often that he could act like he was a normal child with a father but when he was out with Professor Snape, it was easy to imagine. For the first time, he could truly understand what it felt like to have a proper family.

The only thing missing was a group of friends to hang out with but Harry didn't mind. For the longest time he hadn't had any thanks to his cousin and he was able to keep himself entertained without anyone else his age around. Besides, it was only for two weeks and then Harry would be going to live with Tracey. There was no point in making friends if he was only going to be around for a few weeks.

It was interesting, Severus had decided, to get used to living with another person. For years he had lived by himself and he wasn't accustomed to taking another person's needs into consideration, especially a child's. The professor found himself worrying about the smallest details. Was there enough food? Did he have the  _right_  kind of food? Would Harry become bored, being kept in the apartment for most of the day. At times, Severus wished that Harry would say what he was thinking but the boy rarely did so. He seemed content to do whatever Snape offered.

Two weeks after Harry had arrived at the flat, Severus took him to King's Cross, where the Davises would be picking him up. Harry didn't have much to pack, as he had never truly unpacked. It had been easier just to live out of his trunk.

Before they left, Severus sat his son down on the couch.

"An early birthday present," he said, revealing a carefully wrapped package. As Severus handed over the small present, he waited to see how the boy would react. This present was Severus's way of admitting to the boy that he was Harry's father.

There was a card tucked underneath the ribbon. Harry untangled it from the ribbon eagerly and opened the envelope. The card was simple but he recognized the handwriting.

Harry's heart beat furiously. It was  _S._ 's handwriting. Did that mean that Professor Snape was his father? Had the answer really been in front of him for all that time?

Harry read the note. It was short but it said more than a long letter ever would.

_Continue to do your best._

_Your father,_

_SS_

Tiny tears pricked at the corner of Harry's eyes. He opened up the package. Inside was a mug meant for tea or coffee. Pulling it out of the box, Harry realized that it was the one he had been using for the two weeks he had spent at the flat. Now it was officially his.

Harry beamed brightly. It wasn't the most extravagant of gifts but the meaning behind the gift didn't go unnoticed. He set it off to the side and hugged his father.

"Thank you," he whispered, burying his face in Severus's cardigan. The man stroked Harry's hair gently.

"Now you know," he murmured. Harry nodded and pulled away. He was glad that one mystery was gone but he still had so many questions.

"If you're my father, why are you letting the Davises be my guardians?" he asked. "Why can't I just stay here with you?"

Snape sighed sadly. If only things could be that simple.

"There are some things that are beyond our control," he replied vaguely. "James and Lily Potter are your parents according to your birth certificate and I've never really gotten along with the Ministry. They would have denied my application to become your guardian. Besides, it'll work out better for you in the long run if people don't know I'm your father. If they did, they would cause problems for you."

Harry didn't completely understand but he knew that there were things in Severus Snape's past that still haunted him to this day. He didn't know what they were and he wouldn't pry. He also knew without being told that this new information would have to stay between him and Professor Snape. He wouldn't be able to tell anyone else.

"It's not fair," Harry muttered, burying his face back into his father's cardigan. Severus gave a small chuckle and didn't reply. He didn't need to tell his son that life wasn't fair. Harry already knew that.

The Davises were waiting for them when they arrived at King's Cross.

"Harry!" Tracey greeted her yearmate with a bright smile and a hug. Harry initially stiffened at the contact but he quickly relaxed and returned the hug.

"Hi Tracey," he said. "How are you?"

"Excited now that you're here. This summer is going to be so much fun!" Tracey's enthusiasm brought a grin to Harry's face. "Mum and Dad are talking about staying at Diagon Alley for a few days at the end of the summer. Wouldn't that be so cool?"

Harry nodded. He had loved Diagon Alley the other times he had been and he wouldn't say no to being able to explore the area some more. There were so many shops that looked fascinating from the outside that he had never been in.

As the Davis family left King's Cross with Harry in tow, the green-eyed boy gave his father one last glance. The man's face was impassive as he watched the family go. For the first time, Harry wished that he could hug his father but he knew that doing so wouldn't be acceptable. Not now.

A few hours later, Harry was settled in at the Davis house. It had remained the same in his absence, a subtle reassurance. So much had changed in the past two years that Harry felt relieved when things were constant, especially in the wizarding world.

Tracey kept up a constant chatter as her parents made dinner and as Harry unpacked.

"What was it like, living with Professor Snape?" she asked Harry, who shrugged.

"Fine," he replied simply, packing his new mug in his trunk, out of Tracey's sight. "There was nothing horrible about it. In fact, it was rather fun."

"Fun?" Tracey looked skeptical. Harry nodded.

"Anything's better than what my relatives had me do in the summers," he reminded her. Tracey gave a reluctant nod. Harry had told her a few things about his life with the Dursleys and she knew that his home life hadn't been what could be considered normal. However, she had a hard time believing that staying with one of their professors could be considered  _fun_ , of all things.

As the summer went on, Harry became more comfortable with the Davises. It was easy when they treated him like family. Tracey had even informed Harry that he was like the brother she never had. Harry had responded to that revelation with a smile and by shoving Tracey off the bed. As the girl let out a surprised shriek, Harry laughed. Brothers picked on their sisters, right?

For his birthday, Harry had received sweets from his housemates, books from Tracey's parents, and a monstrous book from Hagrid. Monstrous was the only way to describe Hagrid's gift. Harry had heard stories but he had never actually thought he would come across a book that would actually bite him if given the chance.

Tracey guessed that the book, judging from the note Hagrid had written, was for Harry's Care of Magical Creatures class. Seeing it made her glad that she had steered away from Care of Magical Creatures. She had never been fond of the outdoors and seeing the textbook for the class confirmed that she would have hated the subject.

Their Hogwarts letters also arrived on Harry's birthday. Tracey had ripped hers open before Harry had even gotten his away from the school owl and shrieked in delight.

"We get to go to Hogsmeade!" she informed the now thirteen-year-old. "They enclosed the permission slips!" She waved the form in front of Harry's face happily before handing it over to her father.

By the end of June, Tracey's parents had officially been granted guardianship over Harry Potter. That meant that they were able to sign Harry's permission slip as well as Tracey's. Harry was ecstatic. The Dursleys never would have signed the form but the Davises did so with batting an eye. Once the forms were signed, Tracey began chattering about possible plans for their first Hogsmeade trip.

"We should definitely go to Honeydukes," she told Harry. "And Zonko's. I've heard that Zonko's is the best."

"Zonko's?" Harry asked. Tracey nodded.

"Zonko's joke shop. I've heard they have nearly everything you can think of," she said.

"I don't think that's possible," Harry replied with a laugh. Tracey rolled her eyes at the response.

"Oh, shush," she told him and continued to think of things to do. Her parents shook their heads fondly. Tracey could be exuberant at times.

While the two children were talking, the daily owl carrying the Daily Prophet flew into the house. Zachariah Davis opened up the newspaper as his wife paid the owl. As the owl left, Tracey and Harry were startled by Mr. Davis's morning coffee spilling all over the floor. The cup shattered into dozens of pieces. Tracey's mother jumped but the mess was cleared away with a flick of her wand.

"Dear?" she asked. Tracey's father was extremely pale as he got up from the table and tucked the newspaper under his arm. He gestured for his wife to follow him.

"What is it?" Catherine Davis asked as she followed her husband into the living room. She shut the door behind her. Tracey and Harry traded looks before dashing for the door. Tracey and Harry pressed their ears against the wooden door.

"—escaped," they could hear Tracey's father saying.

"Is that even possible?" Tracey's mother sounded worried. "It's Azkaban of all places. No one should be able to escape."

"Apparently Black managed it." Tracey's father said. He sounded anxious.

"Do you think—" Tracey and Harry couldn't hear the end to Catherine's question but they could hear Zachariah's reply.

"I hope not. I don't think our world can take another war. We still haven't completely recovered from the last one."

Harry's eyes widened. War? Why would there be a war?

The voices were lowered until Tracey and Harry could no longer hear anything. Tracey looked nervous as she returned to the kitchen table.

"What do you think happened?" Harry asked. Tracey shrugged her shoulders in a jerky manner.

"Whatever it is, it's not good," she muttered. "I hope Mum and Dad will still take us to Diagon Alley. It would be horrible if this stopped us from going."

Ten minutes later, Catherine and Zachariah Davis returned to the kitchen.

"What's happened?" Tracey demanded. Her parents shook their heads.

"Nothing that will affect us," her mother said, trying to ensure that her daughter wouldn't freak out. "There's just been an escape."

"An escape?" Tracey asked nervously. "From where?" Her parents traded looks and Tracey's father gave a small nod.

"Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban," Tracey's mother informed the children. "It's troubling but it shouldn't have any affect on us."

Harry was confused. He had never heard the name before. Tracey recalled the name but she didn't know where it was from.

"Who's Sirius Black?" Harry asked.

"He's a mad man," Tracey's father informed him. "Twelve years ago, he murdered thirteen people in broad daylight and laughed as the Aurors arrested him."

Harry shivered.

The feeling around the breakfast table had turned from content happiness to fearful wariness. Harry caught Tracey looking nervously outside the window a few times, as if expecting to see Sirius Black standing in front of their home.

"No one's ever broken out of Azkaban before," Tracey murmured as her father prepared to go to work and her mother retreated to the living room. "It was supposed to be impossible."

"Nothing's impossible," Harry told her dully.

"He's supposed to be a supporter of You-Know-Who," Tracey told him, now that she had recognized the name. "I hope that he doesn't try and take over what You-Know-Who was trying to achieve."

Harry shivered at the thought. He was distracted from those thoughts as Catherin Davis bustled into the room.

"Right," she said to Tracey. "I've just talked with your father and this weekend we'll be going to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies."

Tracey's face lit up.

"How long are we staying?" she asked, beginning to bounce in her seat. Harry shook his head while her mother smiled fondly.

"The week," she said. "Your father is taking off work."

Tracey cheered and she grabbed Harry's arm.

"We're going to go pack," she told her mother before dragging Harry out of the room. Harry followed, laughing at Tracey's reaction. As they reached the stairs, Harry tugged his arm out of her grasp.

"A Knut that I can pack less than you," he said. Tracey's eyes narrowed at the challenge.

"You're on," she agreed and rushed upstairs to begin packing, Harry hot on her trail.

* * *

 

A large black dog watched Number 4, Privet Drive for a large part of the day. It didn't make sense.

Harry Potter was supposed to be staying here. His relatives lived here after all.

So why wasn't the boy here?

Only three people lived in the house. There was no sign of a fourth. When the family was out for a shopping trip, the dog had even snuck into the house just to make sure. There were a few traces of a fourth person having lived in the house, particularly in the cupboard under the stairs, but all the signs were a few years old.

Another day passed and then a third. By the end of the fourth day of watching the house, the black dog let out a low whine.

Harry Potter no longer lived at Privet Drive. He could be anywhere.

The black dog slunk off, ears pinned to his head and tail hung low. The large dog's head drooped as he padded down Privet Drive.

He just wanted to have a look at his godson.


	18. Year 3: Part 2

Staying at Diagon Alley was the best trip Harry had ever gone on. It was the first  _true_ vacation that Harry had been on and he had never expected to have as much freedom as he did. Harry and Tracey spent hours exploring the alley and the ones surrounding Diagon Alley. Several times Tracey managed to convince Harry to follow her and escape the watchful eye of her parents, so that the pair could further explore areas that the Davises wouldn't take the children to. They also ran into several of their classmates, so there was always someone new to talk to and catch up with.

The most common discussion around the Alley was about Sirius Black. Harry couldn't understand why people were so worried—the chances of Black attacking them were slim to none—but he didn't voice his opinions out loud. Every day there was an absurd new rumor about where Black was or how he had escaped from Azkaban. Harry's personal favorite was that Black had melted himself into a puddle of water and slipped down the drain into the sea.

While Harry couldn't understand why people were so worried about being attacked, he could understand their worry about an escape from Azkaban. After all, if one man could do it, so could others. Harry wanted to know how Black had done it so he could feel safe once the Ministry of Magic repaired the leak in their system.

However, with Black's escape, everyone was terrified. It had taken Harry a few days to notice the small changes but he noticed them. The shops in Diagon Alley closed earlier. Wizards and witches seldom walked alone and their wands were always close at hand. No one went anywhere after dark. Posters were hung on the walls all around Diagon Alley, showcasing Sirius Black's face. After the first few days, Black's face was burned into Harry's mind, including the mad eyes and the deranged laughing mouth.

It should have put a damper on the trip but Tracey was determined that nothing would ruin her trip to Diagon Alley. Including an escaped madman. So she kept her parents and Harry busy and full of laughs. She put on a bright smile and pretended like she didn't have a care in the world. In her mind, Diagon Alley was the best place in the world. It was comparable to the Muggles' Disney World.

Unfortunately, the trip ended all too soon, as did summer holidays.

On September 1st, Harry and Tracey stood on platform nine and three-quarters. Tracey was hugging her parents while Harry watched on awkwardly. Even though he had stayed with the family for two summers, he still didn't feel close enough to them to be able to embrace the Davises. Harry didn't do much hugging. The Dursleys had never allowed it and it wasn't common for Slytherins to hug their housemates. It was only done in a comforting manner or between two best mates.

As Tracey's hugging and goodbyes continued, Harry looked around the platform. It was crowded as always but it was no longer overwhelming. Compared to his first year, Harry was now able to recognize certain students and the whole idea of a hidden platform no longer seemed foreign. The screeching of owls and the occasional sparks flying out of wands no longer startled the green-eyed boy.

Nothing seemed odd to Harry anymore. The only thing that could be considered remotely odd to Harry was a large, black dog that lurked close by but Harry assumed it was a family pet. Sure, it was a bit scruffy looking but a family on the other side of the platform was showing off a polka-dotted cat, who was hissing at anything that moved.

"Harry?"

Harry looked at Mr. Davis, who had called his name. Tracey's father was holding out a hand. Harry shook it before being scooped into a hug by Tracey's mother. Harry stiffened at the sudden contact but forced himself to return the hug, albeit awkwardly.

"Enjoy your year and be safe, you two," Mrs. Davis said, giving Harry a pointed glance. Harry gave a small shrug. He would do his best. Besides, it wasn't like the situation last year was his fault. "Harry, we hope to see you for Christmas." Harry gave a small nod. He hadn't made a decision yet about whether he would stay at Hogwarts or not. He knew the Davises wouldn't be offended if he decided not to come back with Tracey over the winter.

Once on the train, Harry and Tracey located a compartment that held some of their yearmates.

"Astoria! Theodore! Blaise!" Tracey greeted the three with a smile.

"Hullo, Tracey," Theodore Nott replied. "Harry."

Harry nodded in greeting and sat down next to Blaise. Tracey sat next to Astoria, who was reading a magazine.

"How was your summer?" Blaise asked Harry, who shrugged.

"Fine. Relatively calm. Yours?" he asked. Blaise sighed.

"I met my new stepfather," he said with a grimace. "He's just like the others."

"Rich?" Harry asked.

"Blind," Blaise replied. "I'll never understand how my mother convinces them to marry her but they always do. At least this one didn't threaten to kick me out like the one before him did."

Neither Harry nor Blaise mentioned that the dark-skinned boy's previous stepfather had been found floating in a lake not long after the incident occurred. If there was one thing Harry had learned about Blaise's mother, it was that she was deeply protective of her son and any insult to him was considered an insult to her.

"Anyone know who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is?" Theodore asked. The group in the compartment shook their heads. Not long after the train started moving, they were joined by the rest of their yearmates. Harry was slightly surprised by how many people could fit in their compartment.

And how loud it could get. In one corner there was a game of Exploding Snap going on and in the other corner, a few of the girls were squealing over Astoria's magazine. In the middle were numerous conversations that were constantly interrupted or joined by others.

It wasn't long before someone mentioned Sirius Black.

"Anyone read the newest article in the  _Prophet_  about Black?" Millicent Bulstrode asked. Draco Malfoy laughed.

"It's absolutely rubbish," he announced. Crabbe and Goyle nodded in agreement.

"My dad said that nearly all the things they're attributing to Sirius Black were actually done by his brother, Regulus," Theodore Nott commented. No one acted surprised by his admission. The majority of Slytherin House knew that Theodore's father was a known Death Eater, so the boy found no reason to hide the information that his father occasionally gave him.

"Sirius Black would have never been a Death Eater, like the  _Prophet's_  claiming," Draco agreed. "And of course it's not like the Dark Lord would have wanted the likes of Sirius Black in his ranks."

Millicent looked over at Harry.

"What do you think?" she asked. "I mean, a lot of people know that your dad was friends with him."

Harry shrugged and looked out the window as everyone glanced over at him. He hated being the center of attention.

"I don't care about Black," he said. "After all, it's not like he's after me. Especially if he's not a Death Eater. What reason would he have to come after me?"

"There's a lot of Ministry workers who think that he'll come after you," Draco pointed out. "Most people believe he's a Death Eater still."

Harry sighed.

"I'm not going to worry about Black until it's proven that he's coming after me," he said. "There's nothing a bunch of thirteen year olds can do."

Harry waited for any further questions and sighed in relief as the topic of conversation changed. He was still struggling to manipulate conversations like some of his yearmates could. Harry didn't have the natural ability that Astoria, Draco, or Blaise seemed to have and he usually tried to avoid directing conversations. He preferred to manipulate words in essays and writing instead of in conversation. There was less pressure.

After a while the conversations died down and Harry could look out the window in peace. Blaise was napping beside him, a poor decision in Harry's opinion. Something was bound to happen by the conspiratorial looks being tossed around the compartment. The Slytherins rarely played pranks on members of their own house but it was difficult to resist when an opportunity like this was offered up.

Harry rolled his eyes as Crabbe and Goyle inched closer. No doubt Draco had directed them to do something. He ignored their antics but watched in the reflection of the window for any signs that Blaise would wake up.

The sky grew darker and the rain intensified. Harry shivered slightly. Was it just him or had the temperature dropped suddenly? Harry glanced at his watch, which he had bought in Diagon Alley. They were close but there was still a while to go.

"Why are we slowing down?" Millicent Bulstrode asked suddenly. Harry turned his head away from the window. The train continued to slow until it stopped with a jolt. Blaise jerked awake. Harry tightened his cloak around his body. It was definitely getting colder.

"What's going on?" Draco demanded. Crabbe got up to peer outside the compartment into the corridor. He was just about to announce what he was seeing when the lamps went out, leaving the train in complete dark. Harry turned to look out the window once again to see if he could figure what was going on. He could detect some flickers of movement but not much.

"Is someone coming aboard?" Blaise asked before letting out a curse as he felt his hair. Oil had been poured onto it. "Really?"

Crabbe and Goyle snickered and Harry shook his head. He shivered again. Something wasn't right about this. Why had the train stopped?

The door began to slide open. In the dark, Harry could make out a tall, cloaked figure, its face completely covered by an overlarge hood.

"Who are you?" Harry heard Tracey demand. The figure drew in a slow, rattling breath and the compartment was plunged into coldness.

Harry gasped for air. He couldn't breathe. He felt like the cold was drowning him. The icy air was drowning him and he could hear the screams of its past victims…No, not the past victims. The screams were familiar but Harry couldn't remember where he had heard such terrified and desperate screams…

Harry's eyes rolled up in his head and he fell forward.

"Harry? Harry!"

When Harry came to, the lights were back on and the train was moving. Harry gasped for breath. Tracey was kneeling over him and Harry could see Blaise and Theodore sitting behind her.

"What happened?" he asked as he regained his breath. He tried to sit up but he was forced to push Tracey out of the way first. The girl clung to him, frightened. "What was that?"

"A dementor, we think," Theodore said grimly. "My father's told me about them." Others around the cabin nodded, including Draco. Harry grimaced. From the looks of things, he was the only one who had fainted. Great. He couldn't wait to see how many snide comments Draco would make of this incident.

Looking over at the blond, Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. Draco appeared pensive and not at all smug.

"What's a dementor?" Harry asked.

"They guard Azkaban," Theodore explained. "They're part of the reason why it was supposed to be impossible to escape."

"Why did it affect me so differently?" Harry demanded. It was Draco who replied.

"They draw on memories," the blond said. "The more horrific the events a person has experienced, the stronger a dementor can affect them."

Harry grimaced. He didn't like the sound of that. He felt like he hadn't witnessed anything truly horrific but he also knew that he had experienced more than his classmates had.

The screams Harry had heard plagued him for the rest of the journey. Where had he heard those screams before? He could barely remember them now but they had sounded so terrified…

Harry blinked in surprise as the train jolted to a stop again. This time he could see the school platform on the other side of the window.

"You okay?" Tracey asked as they stepped off the train. Harry nodded.

"I will be," he assured her. "I just need something warm to eat and some dry clothes. Hopefully there will be no more of those things around."

It wasn't to be. As they passed through the gates to Hogwarts, Harry spotted two dementors guarding the gates. The thirteen-year-old brought his robe up to cover his mouth and closed his eyes until the icy coldness had passed. Harry didn't want to hear the screams again and the thought of the affects the dementors had on him made Harry's stomach roll.

"Mr. Potter!" Harry turned sharply at the sound of his name as he approached the Great Hall. His green eyes widened as he saw Professor Snape striding in his direction. Astoria gave Harry an apologetic glance.

"We sent an owl to Professor Snape when you fainted," she explained. "Because we didn't know what to do."

Harry waved her apology off. He wasn't mad, just surprised. He followed his Head of House. Professor Snape led him into an empty classroom, where Madam Pomfrey was waiting. Harry resisted the urge to sigh. He would feel fine after some food, he knew. This worrying was unnecessary, though he appreciated that his father would go to such lengths to make sure that he was safe.

Madam Pomfrey sighed when she realized who her charge was.

"Mr. Potter," she greeted him. "What happened?"

Harry felt himself redden.

"I'm fine," he attempted to protest, though a sharp look from Professor Snape cut off any further protests. "It was just a dementor."

"Just a dementor," Madam Pomfrey grumbled, a dark look on her face. "Nasty creatures. You won't be the first to collapse."

"I'm fine," Harry insisted. "I'm just hungry."

Madam Pomfrey reached into the pockets of her robes and pulled out a bar of chocolate.

"Chocolate is the best remedy after a dementor," she informed Harry. "I'd advise stocking up." The nurse gave Professor Snape a meaningful look. The Potions Professor nodded. He would also stock up. He suspected that his students would be the most at risk from the dementors. Slytherins always seemed to draw the short straw.

Harry unwrapped the chocolate bar.

"I'll see him down to the Great Hall, Madam Pomfrey," Professor Snape announced once Harry had taken a bite of the chocolate. Harry followed the dark-haired man as he swept out of the room.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Professor Snape asked as they made their way down to the Great Hall. Harry hesitated before answering.

"I heard screams," he admitted. "They sounded familiar. They were…disturbing."

Professor Snape's mouth tightened.

"If you keep hearing them, you should let me know," he told the boy. "Now, you should go sit with your classmates."

Harry obeyed and as he was sitting down beside Blaise and Theo, Professor Dumbledore began to speak. Harry paid close attention. He wanted to know if the Headmaster knew about the dementors on the train.

"As you are all aware, Hogwarts will be playing host to the dementors of Azkaban this year, on order of the Ministry," Professor Dumbledore announced. "They will be here until Sirius Black is captured. They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds and I must warn you to be careful. Give them no reason to harm you because it is not in the nature for a dementor to be forgiving."

Harry shivered. Every entrance? He felt like he wouldn't be going on all of the Hogsmeade trips then. Not if he had to go past those creatures every time he wanted to leave school grounds.

Once Dumbledore had made the announcement about the dementors, Harry tuned the rest of the small speech out. He only tuned back in when he heard Hagrid's name.

"What did he just say?" Harry asked Blaise as the Gryffindor table broke into applause.

"He's the new Care of Magical Creatures professor," Blaise said with a small grimace. A small smile graced Harry's face. Good for Hagrid.

After the announcement of Hagrid's new position, food appeared on the table. Harry stacked his plate with as much food as he could. He always enjoyed Hogwarts' feasts and filling his stomach with food was enough to rid Harry of any remaining queasiness the dementors had left. For the first time since the dementor attack, Harry felt warm, safe, and content.

"Congratulations, Hagrid!" Harry said as he passed by the man on his way to the Slytherin common room. Hagrid beamed widely but didn't get the chance to say anything as Harry was hurried along by his yearmates.

"Home!" Tracey announced as the group stepped inside the common room. She flopped into an armchair and looked around. "Things haven't changed a bit."

Harry laughed at his friend and pseudo sister. He perched on the arm of the chair Tracey was sitting in. He pretended not to notice the strange, pensive looks Draco directed his way.

"Let's see what you say tomorrow," Harry said to Tracey. "Once classes have started."

Tracey frowned.

"Don't talk about those yet. We still have an entire night before we become slaves to our textbooks once again."

Harry laughed and stood up.

"You're being overdramatic, which is my sign to go to bed," he said. "Good night."

"But Harry!" Tracey protested. "The night is young and we're teenagers. We're supposed to stay up all night and party!"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Good night, Tracey," he said as he made his way to the third year boys' dorm. He smiled when he saw his trunk at the foot of a four-poster bed. He was glad to be back at Hogwarts.


	19. Year 3: Part 3

Third-year course schedules were handed out the next morning at breakfast. Harry looked at his quietly, still not completely awake. He had gotten used to sleeping in over the summer and waking up had more difficult than it had in the past.

They were starting new classes today, Harry noticed. Unlike their other classes, which combined two houses, their electives brought together all four houses.

Divination was in the morning, followed by Charms and then lunch. After lunch were Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes. Harry was looking forward to his classes. Third year is when the pace started to pick up, according to the professors, and Harry was looking forward to the challenge.

It wasn't until the end of breakfast when Harry noticed something strange. The Gryffindors were being louder than normal, laughing and joking around. To Harry's horror, a few of them were pretending to faint.

Did they know? He couldn't see how they would. He didn't know any of his housemates who would have told the Gryffindors. The Slytherins protected their own.

Millicent Bulstrode glanced over at the Gryffindors the same time that Harry did. She rolled her eyes but seemed to notice Harry's distress.

"It's not you they're laughing at," she muttered quietly. "Apparently one of the second years fainted as well."

Harry sighed in relief. That was good to know. After the ostracization he had received last year, he hated the thought that members of other houses were making fun of him or talking about them. Nothing ever good came of it. Besides, it was better to slip through the cracks unnoticed. He learned a lot more that way, especially about the people at Hogwarts.

The few Slytherins that had Divination as their first class were rounded up by a sixth year with a free period. Professor Snape had designated the sixth year to show them the quickest way to the Divination classroom, which was all the way over in the North Tower. None of the third year Slytherins had ever had a class in the North Tower before so the sixth year was a great help. They would have gotten terribly lost otherwise.

"Naptime," Draco announced loudly as they made their way to the tower. "That's all Divination is good for."

"If you're not interested in the subject, why did you take it?" Pansy asked, sneering slightly. Draco shrugged.

"Because it's an easy grade," he replied. "At least until O.W.L.s come around."

Harry shook his head. He wasn't surprised by Draco's reasoning behind taking Divination.

The third year Ravenclaws taking Divination were already waiting in the tower. A few minutes after the Slytherins arrived, the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors started trickling in. A few climbed the entrance to the classroom nervously, having been spooked by something on their journey across the castle.

Once all of the students arrived, Professor Trelawney made her appearance. At first her thin form and overlarge glasses startled Harry. Those features, combined with her wardrobe, reminded Harry of the psychics he had seen on a television show his cousin had been watching one day. There was something very…fake about the whole getup.

At Professor Trelawney's insistence, the class sat on the assorted chairs and cushions provided. Harry found himself sitting at a table with Tracey, Draco, Pansy, and two Gryffindors. Harry recognized them as Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Upon seeing Draco's frigid look and Ron's reddening cheeks, he knew that there was bound to be trouble. However, there was no other place to move to. All the other seats had been taken.

Harry laughed to himself when Professor Trelawney predicted that teacups would be broken in the first lesson. He could have made that prediction himself. It was easy to tell that awkward Gryffindor Neville Longbottom was a clumsy fellow and the tension between Ron and Draco could be felt by everyone in the room.

Harry tuned out most of the welcoming lecture. He figured that it would be the same as all the others he had been hearing since his first year.

The lesson was halfway over when Professor Trelawney let them do something more exciting than listen to her talk. The class was divided into pairs by Professor Trelawney so that the students could try their hands at reading tealeaves. Harry winced when he realized that Draco and Ron had been paired together. Yes, teacups were definitely going to be broken in this lesson. Tracey was paired with Pansy, leaving Harry to be paired with Hermione Granger.

The brown-haired girl looked oddly excited about that fact.

"I'm Hermione," she introduced herself. Harry nodded.

"I know," he said. "You probably already know who I am."

Hermione nodded eagerly.

"I heard what happened last year. Absolutely amazing," she said. Harry grimaced.

"It really wasn't," he said. "I didn't want to do it but there was no other choice at the time."

"It still took a lot of bravery," Hermione. "You know, everyone was really surprised first year when you weren't Sorted into Gryffindor."

Harry shrugged awkwardly.

"The Sorting Hat considered it," he admitted. "But he decided that Slytherin was a better fit."

"Why?" Hermione asked curiously. "No offense, but you don't seem like a typical Slytherin."

Harry wasn't sure how to respond. He couldn't very well tell Hermione that it was because he had originally wanted to find his father, who was a Slytherin as well.

"The Sorting Hat thought I was ambitious," he said carefully. "And that I was creative in the way I went about certain problems."

"Like last year," Hermione realized. "You could have gone in without telling anyone and tried to defeat the monster yourself but you got the professors and Ministry involved."

Harry felt his cheeks heating up.

"I just did what I thought others would do in my situation," he said. "There was nothing creative about going to adults for help. I just had the information and knew who to give it to."

Harry hoped that Draco wasn't listening. The blond-haired boy would tease him mercilessly for having a fan girl if he was listening. Judging by the quiet argument starting between Draco and Ron, Harry doubted that Draco was listening.

To deflect the conversation away from him, Harry decided to ask Hermione a question.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you and him even become friends?" he asked, gesturing to Ron. "Your personalities seem so different that you don't seem like you would be friends."

Hermione's cheeks reddened.

"In first year, I trailed after Ron, Dean, and Seamus a lot because I was lonely," she whispered. "Dean and Seamus weren't exactly thrilled and tried to get me to leave them alone but for some reason Ron stuck up for me. He was one of my first friends here."

Harry smiled softly. It was obvious that Hermione had a small crush on Ron. He wondered if the red-haired boy returned the crush.

"He still hangs out with Dean and Seamus," Hermione said. "And I hang out with his sister Ginny—the one you saved last year—and Neville over in the corner, but we still tend to gravitate toward each other. At first, I thought it was because he knew I was smart and wanted to copy off my homework but he's actually a good friend."

By now, their teacups had been drained of tea and only the leaves remained. Hermione pushed hers toward Harry.

"Divination is a wooly subject, in my opinion," she said. "But I wanted to take as many classes as I could this year. Next year, I'll probably drop a few but I wanted to get a feel for all the electives."

"What other classes?" Harry asked. "Care of Magical Creatures? Ancient Runes?"

Hermione nodded.

"As well as Arithmancy and Muggle Studies," she said. "And a few other classes."

Harry shook his head. Hermione sounded like a classic overachiever. She made him look like a slacker and Harry was one of the more studious Slytherins. He glanced into Hermione's teacup.

"I see a book," he stated, not even trying. "And a load of soggy brown stuff. That must mean you read a lot and that you've been drinking tea."

Hermione snorted in amusement and took her teacup back. Harry pushed his toward her. Before Hermione had a chance to try reading the leaves, Professor Trelawney swooped in, looking at all six teacups on the table.

"Dear me, dear me," she said dramatically. "Your tealeaves aren't happy at all."

"Of course not," Pansy muttered. "You've paired Gryffindors and Slytherins together. Everyone knows that's a bad idea."

Tracey kicked Pansy under the table.

Professor Trelawney gasped suddenly.

"A hook," she claimed dramatically, examining the six teacups. "There is a traitor in our midst. And a knife. A time of great pain is approaching. I also see a leaf…a period of indecision."

Harry made a face. Was the traitor comment a slur against Slytherins? He wondered. Slytherin House was often thought of being the house of misfits and traitors and those that meant ill to others. It was a load of codswallop in his opinion. He hoped that it wasn't. Professors were supposed to be above house rivalries.

Harry jumped as a teacup shattered.

"A noose!" Professor Trelawney gasped. "Death! Soon…within the next few years…One of you sitting at this table shall die!"

"Of course we're going to die," Hermione grumbled. "We're human, after all. Humans die."

Professor Trelawney looked at the Gryffindor girl with dislike.

"I think we will end here for today," Professor Trelawney said. "I will see you all next class period." Her voice adopted a misty tone. "I know it shall be so."

Harry shook his head as he gathered his items. Pansy, Tracey, and Draco were waiting for him at the door, along with the other Slytherins. Ron was talking loudly with Seamus and Dean on the other side of the room. The trio sent glares at the waiting Slytherins.

"Do you want to meet up some time?" Hermione asked awkwardly. "To study? I'd like to be your friend, even if you're a Slytherin."

Harry's green eyes widened in surprise.

"Sure," he agreed awkwardly. "Do you want to meet at the library some time?"

The library was a good place to meet. It was neutral ground. None of the Gryffindors or Slytherins would raise a fuss if the two met there, if only because they knew Madam Pince would throw them out if they did.

Hermione nodded and left Harry alone. Harry stared after her for a second, before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He had learned one thing today. Hermione Granger was a strange girl.

"What did you think?" Tracey asked Harry as they made their way to Charms. Harry shrugged.

"It seems fake," he admitted bluntly. Tracey laughed in agreement.

"I thought Draco and Weasley were going to start throwing teacups at each other," she said.

"Same here," Harry said with a grin. Draco brushed past them, proudly swaggering as he did so.

"That Granger girl seemed interested in you," Tracey said. Harry shrugged.

"Is there something wrong with that?" he asked. Tracey looked shocked at his question.

"Besides the obvious?" she said. "I was just surprised that you were encouraging her, that's all."

Harry frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked. He didn't think that Tracey shared the opinions about Muggleborns that some of their housemates had. She had never hinted that she did.

"I don't have anything against her," Tracey assured him quickly. "I don't care that she's a Gryffindor or a Muggleborn. I'm just trying to say that there are others that will mind."

"So what?" Harry said. Tracey held her hands up defensively.

"I'm just trying to warn you," she said. "That's all."

Harry didn't reply.

Charms went by quickly and soon it was lunch. Harry dug into his food, ravenous. He hadn't had a very big breakfast, having been tired, but now he had regained his appetite. He ate quickly, not remembering his manners until Blaise commented on it.

"Hungry, are you?" the dark-skinned boy had asked. Harry ignored him and continued to eat, though he began to eat more slowly and properly.

"What class did you have?" he asked Blaise, having not seen him in Divination.

"Arithmancy," Blaise replied. "I'll take numbers over omens any day. They're much more clear and logical. I heard about the death omen in Divination."

Harry made a face.

"I wouldn't believe in it," he said. "That whole class seemed fake."

"So, are you dropping it?" Blaise asked. Harry shook his head.

"Maybe at the end of the year but it's pointless now," he said and then smirked. "Besides, I can't let it seem that the death omen scared me off."

Blaise grinned.

"Yeah, definitely can't have that happen," he agreed. "We need to show those Gryffindors that we aren't scared off that easily."

After lunch was over, Harry made his way down to Hagrid's hut for his Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Everyone could understand why he was taking the class. His friendship with Hagrid was no secret. The real question was why Draco Malfoy of all Slytherins was taking a Care of Magical Creatures class, especially since Hagrid was teaching it. His dislike of Hagrid was almost as well known as his dislike of Muggleborns.

Still, Harry didn't care enough to ask. He didn't want to know the reasons behind Draco's every action.

Hagrid looked excited to see his students as they came down the lawn. He was also impatient for the lesson to start and led the students right to the creatures they were dealing with for their first lesson. Harry didn't mind, because as long as they were busy, he didn't have to listen to Draco's snide comments.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid announced loudly. Harry tilted his head in confusion. Hippogriffs? He had never heard of such a creature. By the name, he would have guessed that they were a combination of a hippopotamus and a giraffe.

Instead, they were unlike anything Harry had ever seen.

The hippogriffs were majestic, in an odd sort of way. They were clearly intelligent by the look in their eyes and they were definitely dangerous, judging by the talons on their front legs.

The talons were what made Harry hesitant to approach the hippogriffs, despite Hagrid's encouragement. He couldn't forget the fact that Hagrid still thought that  _dragons_  were peaceful creatures that wouldn't harm a fly.

Since they were dealing with a potentially dangerous creature, Harry knew that it would be in his best interest to pay attention. He listened as best he could but his gaze kept wandering over to the hippogriffs.

The lesson started off calmly. Once Hagrid explained how to interact with the creatures, students and hippogriffs were bowing to each other. Harry was glad that Hagrid hadn't decided to use him as an example.

Once the hippogriffs had bowed to the students, they were actually quite tame creatures, Harry realized. The hippogriff Harry had been paired with, a golden-feathered one named Goldwind was friendlier than the Slytherin had expected and was practically twining around him, much like a cat would.

Other students in the class didn't share Harry's luck. Ron Weasley's hippogriff wasn't taking to him at all. The red-haired boy constantly had to back away and try again. Crabbe and Goyle were on their second hippogriffs after the first ones tried to attack them.

And Draco's…

Harry wasn't sure what the blond had said or did, but the gray-feathered hippogriff suddenly reared up, talons flashing. The next thing the class knew, Draco was on the ground, clutching his arm and screeching in pain.

As Hagrid carried Draco away, Harry followed his enraged classmates, shaking his head.

That was certainly one way to end a lesson.

Pansy nearly slapped a Gryffindor for suggesting that it was Draco's thought. Before she could, Harry grabbed her wrist.

"Don't," he said quietly. "You'll get in trouble if you do."

Pansy growled and yanked her wrist out of his hand, before storming off. Harry, Crabbe, and Goyle followed the furious girl.

"Any one of us could be killed!" Pansy raged as they reached the common room. Harry nodded, not really listening, as he emptied his bag of his books for his morning classes. He hadn't had time between lunch and classes to empty it earlier.

"It was stupid and completely reckless," Pansy continued to rage. "He's completely mad!"

"It was better than Divination," Harry muttered under his breath before looking at Pansy. "What class do you have now?"

"Free period," Pansy replied. "I'm going to go check on Draco in the hospital wing. You?"

"Ancient Runes," Harry replied. "I'll see you at dinner then."

"Tell Blaise and any others of our house that you see what happened to Draco," Pansy said. "It's completely outrageous!"

Harry left the common room before she could continue her rant.

Compared to Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes seemed like a normal class. It would be difficult, he could tell, and the class would require a lot of memorization. Still, it would be nice to have a  _normal_  elective. Well, as normal as things could get at Hogwarts.

As Harry sat next to Blaise and Theodore Nott, he passed on the news about what had happened to Draco. Blaise shook his head at the news and Theodore looked unhappy.

"Is it too much to ask for a drama free year?" he asked. "It's the first day of classes. At least let a week pass."

Harry snorted.

"You do realize that he's going to milk it for all this is worth," he pointed out. Blaise and Theodore nodded. They would be surprised if Draco didn't make a big fuss out of his injury.

After dinner, Harry went down to visit Hagrid. He was sure that the new professor would be distraught. To his surprise, he wasn't the only one there.

Hermione was also there.

"He's been drinking," she informed Harry as he opened the door. Harry wasn't surprised.

"It's only a matter o' time," Hagrid mumbled as Harry entered the hut.

"Matter of time until what?" he asked. Hagrid took a large drink from his oversized tankard.

"'Til I get sacked," Hagrid said, shame-faced.

"You won't get sacked," Hermione reassured Hagrid. "Malfoy can't get you sacked. Right, Harry?"

She looked at Harry desperately.

"Sure," Harry said, but there was no conviction in his words. "Malfoy won't do something like that."

Malfoy would be more likely to take his revenge on the creature that had injured him.

"It's all Malfoy's fault," Hermione continued. "He was the one that wasn't paying attention. Everyone else who did weren't hurt, remember? He must have provoked the hippogriff in some way."

Hagrid looked like he was about to begin crying but before he could, Hagrid rushed outside. Harry and Hermione shared disgusted looks as they heard the sound of retching.

"Why did come down?" Harry asked out of curiosity. Hermione looked at the ground.

"I wanted to see if he was okay," she said. "It was a horrible thing that happened today."

Harry wanted to say that was because Malfoy was a git but he stopped himself. Slytherins showed a united front to the rest of the school. He couldn't let on that there were inter-house tensions.

"Hagrid's a good man," Hermione said quietly. "I really hoped he doesn't get sacked for this."

Harry nodded in agreement.

"What happened to the hippogriff that attacked Malfoy?" he asked.

"Hagrid said he put it with the others in the corral," Hermione said. "I think he should have sent it away, though, just in case…"

Harry nodded. There was no telling what would become of the creature. He glanced out the window and noticed how dark the sky had become. Harry sighed.

"We should head back," he said. Hermione glanced out the window and nodded.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" she asked.

"Of course he will," Harry said. "Nothing bad will happen."

Hagrid had stuck his head in the water barrel outside his hut to sober himself up. Harry gave Hermione a reassuring look.

"He'll be fine," he mouthed to her before turning to Hagrid.

"We're going to the castle," he announced. "It's nearly curfew."

Hagrid didn't reply.

The rest of the week went by dully, compared to the first day of classes. However, at Hogwarts, events like students being kidnapped by basilisks or students being mauled by hippogriffs were quickly forgotten. There was always something new around the corner.

Such as the sighting of Sirius Black. Apparently he had been sighted by a Muggle not too far from Hogwarts. It was nerve-wracking to think about but Harry knew that there wasn't anything he  _could_  do, even if he  _wanted_ to. He was only a student, after all.

Sirius Black was quickly driven out of the students' minds when it was time for the third years' first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Harry hadn't heard many things about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. All he really knew that his name was Professor Lupin and that, despite his shabby appearance, knew his material.

The second fact made Harry happy. At least this year, he wouldn't have to deal with another Lockhart.

The lesson was made even more memorable by the fact that it was a practical lesson.

Harry stood with the other Slytherin students in the back of the staffroom, wondering what sort of creature they would be facing. He doubted that it would be anything dangerous. Unlike Hagrid, Harry doubted that Professor Lupin would put them in any sort of danger.

Professor Snape passed them on the way out. Harry looked at the man eagerly, hoping for some sort of acknowledgement. Professor Snape glanced at the group of Slytherin but did nothing more than that. Harry turned to the front of the room, feeling slightly dejected. He didn't let any of his emotions show on his face. He didn't want to explain himself to his housemates.

By the end of the lesson, Harry's mind was swirling with rage. While he would admit that Professor Lupin was a good teacher, some of the things he did during the lesson were uncalled for.

Like having Neville make the boggart impersonate Professor Snape. Yes, he understood that his father bullied Neville during Potions but Professor Lupin didn't know Neville personally. There was no reason Harry could see for the new professor to mock Professor Snape.

After seeing his father in Neville's grandmother's clothes, Harry hung around at the back of the classroom. He hadn't wanted to participate but was forced into the line by Tracey and Pansy. The two girls looked intrigued by the lesson. Only Harry wasn't. He found himself wishing that he were in a different class for most of the practical lesson. Anywhere besides Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Remus Lupin kept a close eye on Harry Potter throughout the lesson. He had to admit that he had been surprised at first when he heard that James's son had been sorted into Slytherin. However, after hearing the rumors of his childhood with the Dursleys, Professor Lupin couldn't be very surprised that Harry had ended up in Slytherin. No doubt the boy would be cold and hard-hearted after being treated like that.

He was also surprised that Harry hadn't stepped up to face the boggart. Despite being glad that he hadn't had to intervene in case the boggart turned into Lord Voldemort, Remus Lupin was beginning to wonder whom Harry Potter had turned out to be.

At the end of the lesson, he had tried to pull all the students that hadn't faced the boggart to explain why they hadn't. Harry had given him a frosty look before refusing to join his classmates. Instead, he left with the other Slytherins.

If Remus didn't know any better, he would have said that the boy was angry and disappointed with him. Try as he might, he couldn't figure out any reason the boy would have to be angry with him.


	20. Year 3: Part 4

Professor Snape was in a foul mood for the next few weeks once word got out what had happened in the first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Harry couldn't blame his father for being upset. The sight of Severus Snape in Augusta Longbottom's clothes was not one that was easily forgotten and it made it difficult for students to take the Potions professor seriously. Professor Snape's reputation was nearly ruined and all for the sake of a few laughs.

Harry was pleased to see that he wasn't the only Slytherin who was frustrated with the current situation. Draco was outraged. Harry had lost count of how many times the boy had threatened to report Lupin to the school governors for not taking his job seriously.

Pansy and the girls alternated between being enraged as well and tending to Draco. Pansy was worried that Draco's rants would injure his arm further. It didn't make sense to any of the boys but after dealing with the girls for two school years, most of them had given up trying to understand.

Harry had gone to Professor Snape's office to try and talk to the man more about what he had learned that summer but the older man hadn't been in the first two times. The third time he had gone to the office, he had been sent away. After that, Harry had given up. He would try again once the boggart incident had been forgotten.

At the end of the October, everyone was distracted by Halloween and the first Hogsmeade trip. Harry had been hesitant to go to Hogsmeade at first—he didn't want to go anywhere near the dementors—but ultimately he was convinced to go. Tracey had brought up a very convincing argument.

"It's the first Hogsmeade trip for us! Do you really want to stay behind and do homework while everyone else is in the village? Do you not realize how many things you'll be missing?"

Harry sighed and Tracey knew she had won the battle.

"And if you'll come, I'll pay for anything you get at Honeydukes," she bribed. Harry sighed at the cheap tricks she was using.

"Fine," he agreed anyway. He would deal with the dementors this one time but if he ended up fainting again, there would be no more Hogsmeade trips for him.

Much to Harry's surprise, he didn't faint when the carriages rode past where the dementors were stationed. He felt nauseous and shivered as they rode past but the screaming in his head didn't start up again. It was a small blessing.

Once they arrived at Hogsmeade, the professors who were chaperoning the visit warned them to travel in groups.

"Pairs at the very least," Professor Sprout announced. "With Sirius Black on the loose, we don't need any students going off on their own. It's too dangerous."

Harry rolled his eyes. He doubted that they needed any more warnings. The night before, Professor Snape and the other Head of Houses had lectured them on the safety precautions they needed to take in Hogsmeade.

One, travel in groups. Two, don't go anywhere alone. Three, don't go outside the village. Last, if they saw anything suspicious, they were to tell a professor immediately. That included any sightings of Sirius Black.

Harry was starting to think that the adults at Hogwarts were a wee bit protective. They were taking this threat of Sirius Black almost  _too_  seriously.

Harry snorted at his inside joke, causing Tracey to glance at him suspiciously.

"So what do you want to do first?" she asked. The other Slytherins had wandered away. On the carriage ride over, Blaise and Theodore had tried convincing Tracey and Harry to be a part of their group but both had denied. They had decided in the summer that the first Hogsmeade trip was going to be just them and no one else.

When they had announced that to their housemates, Draco had given Tracey and Harry an indescribable look. It was a dark look, suspicious and a tad bit…jealous? Why would Draco Malfoy be jealous of Tracey and Harry?

Harry looked around the village. He could already tell that the more popular places in Hogsmeade were Zonko's, Honeydukes, and the Three Broomsticks.

"How about Dervish and Banges?" he suggested. "Do some necessary shopping first?" Tracey nodded in agreement.

Since they hadn't been in Hogsmeade before, it took a bit of wandering before they managed to locate Dervish and Banges.

"Face it, Harry, we're lost," Tracey said after fifteen minutes of looking around. "We've been nearly everywhere in the downtown area but guess what. No Dervish and Banges."

Harry sighed.

"You lead the way then," he said.

"Oh no," Tracey said. "I know what happens next."

Harry gave her a confused look.

"What happens next?" he asked. Tracey huffed.

"I won't be able to find it and then you get to say  _I told you so_ ," she said. "Let's just go somewhere else."

"Like where?" Harry asked, looking around. Tracey pointed at a shop to his right.

"Tomes and Scrolls?" she asked. "For you to get your daily book fix?"

Harry shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"Fine with me," he said, knowing that Tracey would enjoy the shop just as much as he would.

Entering the bookstore was a bad idea, Harry realized a few minutes later. There were a few fourth and sixth year Ravenclaws in Tomes and Scrolls, along with a pair of seventh year Hufflepuffs. Tracey gravitated immediately to the historical texts, while Harry scanned the texts about potions. After nearly half an hour, both Slytherins had a stack of three or four books.

"You're buying," Harry said, plopping his books on top of Tracey's pile. Tracey's eyes widened in shock.

"No way!" she protested. "I said Honeydukes, not this!"

"Too bad," Harry said. "This is for implying that I got us lost. How do you know that I didn't come this way on purpose?"

Tracey made a face but before she could retort, Harry stepped outside the shop.

The green-eyed boy looked around, scanning Hogsmeade. The village was smaller than he expected. To his left, at the other end of the street, he could see a sign for Dervish and Banges. He was amazed that he and Tracey had missed it.

Harry looked in the other direction, towards the Shrieking Shack. The road leading to the shack was almost empty. There were two couples on the road heading toward the shack. Passing them was a large black dog, padding along with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Harry barely spared the dog a glance. It must be a stray or a pet of one of the families over in the residential area of Hogsmeade.

The dog padded closer. It seemed like it was heading in Harry's direction. Harry crouched and patted his legs to beckon the dog over. He wasn't the biggest fan of dogs but this one didn't seem dangerous. Just thin and…. dirty.

"Come here, boy," Harry said quietly. The dog picked up its pace. Harry patted his legs a few times but before the dog was upon him, he was distracted by something else.

More specifically,  _someone_  else.

"Harry?"

Harry straightened as he turned to face Hermione. She was alone.

"Afternoon," he greeted her.

"Is that a dog?" Hermione asked, looking behind him. Harry gave a sheepish nod. Hermione wrinkled her nose as she took in the dog's mangy appearance.

"Looks like a stray," she said. Harry shrugged.

"I'm just waiting for Tracey," he explained. "She's buying things inside. What have you been up to today?"

Hermione held up a bag with the words  _Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop_  scrolled on it.

"I needed a few more quills," she explained. "I left my new ones at home. I stopped at the post office because I had a few letters to send to my parents, along with a request that they send along some other things."

"Where are you going to next?" Harry asked. Hermione rubbed her hands together.

"The Three Broomsticks, I think. I promised Neville that I would meet him there. It's a bit chilly, isn't it?"

Harry nodded absently.

"Where's Ron?" he asked. Hermione's face fell.

"With Dean and Seamus, I suspect," she said. "We haven't talked in a few days."

"Why not?" Harry asked. Hermione looked uncomfortable by the question.

"It's the most ridiculous thing!" she burst out. "It's not even my own fault!"

Harry took a step back from the enraged girl.

"He's angry because my cat Crookshanks attacked his rat," she snapped. "Never mind that cats hunt rats. It's in their natures! Why am I being blamed for something Crookshanks did, something that he can't control?"

"What happened?" Tracey asked, stepping out of the shop. Her expression was neutral upon seeing Hermione, something that relieved Harry. He was glad to know that Tracey wasn't going to raise a fuss for talking to Hermione.

Before he knew it, Hermione and Tracey were complaining about the boys in their year and were making their way toward The Three Broomsticks. Somehow Harry had taken hold of the bag that held their books from Tomes and Scrolls. The Slytherin shook his head and trailed behind the two girls, not sure if he should be worried that they were on their way toward becoming fast friends.

The stray black dog remained in front of Tomes and Scrolls, having been forgotten.

Neville was inside the Three Broomsticks, sitting by himself. His eyes widened upon seeing Hermione in the company of two Slytherins. A quick glance around showed Harry that none of his usual group was inside the inn and bar.

"Hey Neville," Hermione greeted the skittish boy. "Did you get what you needed?"

Neville nodded and his eyes slid toward Harry and Tracey, who were wondering if they should sit down. Hermione patted the seats beside her.

"Sit down," she said. Tracey didn't need any further invitation. She sat down and continued her conversation with Hermione. Harry sighed.

"Hey," he greeted Neville, who gave a tiny nod of greeting. Harry sat down in the last empty seat at the table. He and Neville sat awkwardly in silence as the two girls continued to chatter.

"What did you get?" Harry asked after the silence became too much to bear.

"I went to Dervish and Banges to see if I could get my Remembrall fixed," Neville said quietly. Harry had to strain to hear the boy.

"Could they fix it?" he asked. Neville shook his head.

"I'll have to write my Gran," he said. Harry stiffened at the mention of Neville's grandmother. He would always think of the boggart incident whenever Augusta Longbottom was brought up in conversation.

The silence between the two boys resumed. Harry looked around the room in boredom

"What was with that dog, Harry?" Tracey asked suddenly, drawing Harry away from his thoughts.

"Dog?" Harry asked, not following.

"The dog outside Tomes and Scrolls," Tracey reminded him. Harry blinked, still confused.

"What about him?" he asked. Tracey shrugged.

"I don't know," she said. "I was just curious why he was hanging around."

"It was probably hungry," Hermione interrupted. "It looked like a stray."

Tracey wrinkled her nose. "It smelled like a stray," she agreed.

It had started to rain on the journey back to Hogwarts. Harry and Tracey ended up sharing a carriage with Millicent, Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott, and Pansy. Harry wondered why he always ended up getting stuck with the girls. He gave Theo a sympathetic look as the boy shifted awkwardly. Once they reached Hogwarts, the two boys fled the carriages, heading straight toward the common room.

That night was the Halloween feast. Of all of Hogwarts' feasts, the Halloween feast was probably Harry's favorite. The house-elves went full out and there were always live bats flying overhead.

A storm raged overhead, giving the Great Hall a creepy atmosphere. Harry hoped that he wouldn't hear voices at this year's feast. He could only deal with that once in his life.

Harry piled his plate full of food and dug in. The feasts were some of the few times when Slytherins ignored their normal table manners.

At one time during the feast, Harry glanced up at the head table. Professor Snape seemed distracted. His dark eyes weren't on the students, like they normally were. Instead, they were looking at the other end of the head table.

Harry glanced at the other end of the table to try and figure out what had caught his father's attention. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.

Three helpings later, Harry was filled to the brim and nothing terrible had happened. It was the first Halloween he had experienced at Hogwarts that nothing horrible had happened.

Harry was suspicious.

And he had every right to be suspicious. Less than an hour after the feast had ended, all of the houses were summoned back to the Great Hall. Professor Snape looked anxious as he relayed the news.

"The castle needs to be searched," Professor Snape announced. "You'll spend the night in the Great Hall while the professors and ghosts search the castle. Grab anything you'll need for the night that isn't pillows or blankets. Those, along with sleeping bags, will be provided."

"What's happened, Professor Snape?" One of the prefects asked. Professor Snape looked solemn as he replied.

"The castle as been broken in to," he said. "Stick together as you go to the Great Hall. No one goes off alone, understood?"

The Slytherins nodded.

"Professor, who's broken in?" a fifth year asked. The students all glanced at their Head of House. Professor Snape frowned.

"Sources say Sirius Black," he said. "Now start moving."

A chill ran down Harry's spine. Sirius Black? He hadn't considered the man a threat because he had never thought that the man would come to Hogwarts.

Questions were murmured as the Slytherins began to make their way up to the Great Hall. How had he done it? How had Sirius Black gotten past the dementors a second time? Was he still inside Hogwarts? What had he been after?  _Who_  had he been after?

As fun as it sounded, sleeping in the Great Hall in only a sleeping bag was horrible for the students. Once the all clear was sounded, they stiffly made their way back to the common rooms. Harry was thankful that it was a weekend because the first thing he did after hobbling into his dorm was collapse on his bed and sleep for a few more hours.

When Harry woke up again, he was even stiffer than before. He groaned as he sat up. Crabbe and Goyle were asleep, snoring loudly. They were the only others in the dorm.

"Harry!" Daphne greeted him as Harry entered the common room, trying to smooth his hair down. It was messier than normal.

"Hey," he greeted the girl tiredly. "What's up?"

"We were just talking about Sirius Black," Daphne said. "We were wondering how he got into the castle."

"Was it really him?" Harry asked. Professor Snape had never actually confirmed that Black had been inside the castle.

"The Ravenclaw prefects were overheard saying that a few of the paintings had spotted Black by the Gryffindor common room," she said. Harry's eyes narrowed in confusion.

"What's in the Gryffindor common room?" he asked.

"It  _is_  odd that Black would target the Gryffindors," Draco commented from his spot in an armchair. Harry sat on a couch across from the blond. "If he was after anyone, I would have thought it would be Potter here."

Harry looked at Draco in confusion.

"Me?" he asked. "Why?"

Draco and Daphne's eyes widened.

"Do you really not know?" Daphne asked.

"Is it about Black being friends with my father?" Harry asked. He knew that. Daphne and Draco traded looks.

"He wasn't just friends with your father, Harry," Daphne said. "He was  _best_  friends with your father."

"Okay," Harry said with a shrug, not knowing where she was heading with that.

"Normally best friends become godfathers when a baby is born," Daphne said. Draco sighed.

"Sirius Black is your godfather, Potter," he said. "That's why it was so unbelievable that he was a Death Eater."

Harry stared at the two. Who else had known that Black was his godfather?

"Did everyone know?" he asked. Draco shrugged his thin shoulders.

"Maybe not the students," he said. "I doubt many parents would tell their children something like that."

"And the adults think he would come after me?" Harry asked. Draco nodded.

"If they believed that rubbish about being a Death Eater," he said. "Of course, they are probably really confused now, since Black went for the Gryffindor common room. What do the Gryffindors have that Black could possibly want?"

Harry bit his lip as he mulled over this new information. So, Sirius Black was his godfather.

Harry felt like he needed to talk to Professor Snape.

The green-eyed boy chatted with Daphne and Draco a bit, which was something strange for him. He had never truly talked with Draco for longer than a few minutes. The two of them normally avoided each other, well aware of the tension between them.

When he could, Harry left the conversation and the common room. He walked down the hallway, jumping at every shadow. He knew that Sirius Black was probably no longer in the castle but he was still trying to wrap his head around the new information Daphne and Draco had given him.

Reaching Professor Snape's office, Harry knocked on the door hesitantly. On the other side of the door he could hear rustling. After a moment, the door opened.

"Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said, raising an eyebrow. "Did you need something?"

Harry nodded.

"I had a few questions for you, sir," he said. Professor Snape gave a curt nod and stepped back, making room for Harry to step inside the office.

"What did you need to talk about, Mr. Potter?" Professor Snape asked as he shut the door. Harry sat in the seat that was meant for students.

"It's about Sirius Black," he said. "I just learned something about him."

"What did you learn?" The Potions professor asked. Harry hesitated.

"Sirius Black is my godfather?" he asked. Severus Snape stiffened. He had hoped that his son would remain unaware of that little fact.

"Yes, he is," he confirmed.

"Is he coming after me?" Harry asked. "I mean, he doesn't have a reason to, right?"

"One cannot know what goes on in the mind of Sirius Black," Professor Snape said, sitting down in his chair. "Azkaban has been known to drive its inmates mad. The dementors suck every happy memory and leave their victims with only their worst memories. It would be very unlikely that Sirius Black would be able to remain sane after twelve years in such a place."

"Is he guilty of betraying my—" Harry cut himself off. He had nearly said 'my parents'. He had a feeling Professor Snape wouldn't like that.

"Of betraying Lily and James Potter?" Professor Snape asked. Harry nodded.

"One can't know for sure," Snape said. "There are many things that happened that night that we won't know."

"Like how I survived," Harry murmured. Professor Snape nodded.

"Even though we don't know how it happened, I'm glad you survived," he said gently. Harry nodded, his throat tight.

"Professor," he said, twisting his hands together nervously. "If Sirius Black is somehow innocent, could he take me away from the Davises and—" Harry didn't finish the sentence. He didn't want to verbalize the thought of being taken away from his father.

"I doubt that will ever happen, Harry," Professor Snape said. "The Ministry would have to acknowledge Black as being innocent, something they would be reluctant to do. Our Minister of Magic would hate to publicly acknowledge that he had made a mistake."

Harry nodded in understanding but Professor Snape continued.

"If he somehow was declared innocent, Black would have to go to numerous lengths to try and gain custody of you. The process could take years and by then, you would be an adult in our world."

Harry felt his body relax as relief overcame him. Good. His life had been disrupted enough in the past two years. He didn't need any more disruptions.


	21. Year 3: Part 5

The first Quidditch match of the year took place on a cold and rainy day. Harry wanted to stay inside the castle, by the warm fireplaces, but he found himself being dragged outside against his will.

"Why do I have to go again?" he demanded. "Something bad is just going to happen."

"You're just being paranoid," Tracey said. "It's the first game of the season."

"Slytherin isn't even playing," Harry pointed out. "What's the big deal about Quidditch, anyway? It's just a sport."

Tracey sighed.

"When did you become so bookish?" she asked. Harry shrugged.

"Do you mean why would I rather remain inside where it's warm and dry instead of following the herd out to a place where it's muddy, cold, and wet?" Harry asked dryly as he wiped his glasses clean. It was futile. The rain fogged up his glasses within seconds of putting them on. Harry sighed and just gave up. He would just have to follow Tracey and try not to trip.

Through the rain, Harry could barely keep track of the players in the air. The only way he could really tell what was going on was by the commentary.

After ten minutes, Harry tried to return to the castle but he didn't get very far in the crowded stands. The rain made it difficult to see and the students were too crowded together so Harry couldn't take a step without running into his classmates.

Half an hour into the match, Harry tried to move again. This time, he dragged Tracey along with him. Both Slytherins were soaked to the bone.

Tracey protested but Harry made her lead him away from the crowds.

"This is mad," he said. Tracey had to admit that he had a point. The rain had picked up and was beginning to turn to sleet. Lightning flashed in the air, lighting up the entire sky. The wind and the rain blocked out the sounds of the crowd.

Harry gasped as coldness began to seep into his bones. His legs buckled as someone screamed inside his head….A woman…

Tracey grabbed Harry's arm as he began to collapse but her stomach rolled. She shivered. The cold felt like it was ripping her apart from the inside.

Harry's eyes rolled back into his head as the screaming became too much. His body fell limp.

Harry woke up in the hospital wing and groaned. He had fainted in front of most of the school. And he knew what caused it.

The dementors.

That was embarrassing. He really needed a way to counteract the effects of the dementors. He couldn't let these creatures control him. Slytherins were in control of their own selves. Nothing else could control them.

"Have a nice nap, Potter?" a voice asked from his side. Harry turned his head and spotted Draco Malfoy sitting next to his bed.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he asked, trying not to show his surprise. Draco Malfoy was the last person he expected to see sitting as his bedside.

"Getting my bandages changed," Draco said, holding up his arm. Harry rolled his eyes. He had mostly forgotten that Draco was still dragging that thing out.

"No offense," Draco said, "but you've got the worst luck I've seen when it comes to watching Quidditch matches. Promise me you won't go to the Quidditch World Cup? I think the stands would catch fire if they did."

Harry made a face.

"Oh, shut it," he grumbled. "None of it was my fault. Who won the match?"

"Do you really care?" Draco asked. Harry shook his head.

"Not really," he admitted. "Though I suppose you're right. I should just stop going to Quidditch matches. Something bad always ends up happening. What happened to Quidditch being a safe spectator sport?"

Draco laughed.

"You just have horrible luck," he said. "Are you all right now?"

Harry nodded. He still felt a little cold and nauseous but it would pass. It always did.

"I'll be fine," he said and gestured to Draco's arm. "When are you going to give that up?" he asked. "I know it's been healed for weeks."

Draco smirked.

"Whenever it stops being effective," he replied. "That's the thing, Potter. Slytherins have to take advantage of every weakness in others that they can find."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I know," he said.

"You're not the typical Slytherin, you know," Draco said as Harry got out of bed and started getting dressed. He never understood Madam Pomfrey's need to always change her patients into hospital wing clothes. It made him feel like a prisoner. Draco made a face as Harry set the clothes on the bed. He had averted his eyes while Harry was changing.

"Horrible quality," Draco sneered.

"Going to complain to the school board?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"I should," he said. "Ready to go? I'm sure the girls are all prepared to play nurse."

Harry grimaced at the thought.

"I know I'm not the typical Slytherin," he said as he and Draco left the hospital wing. "A lot of times I think I should have been in Ravenclaw."

"You definitely have the whole studious thing going on," Draco admitted. "So why were you placed in Slytherin?"

Harry shrugged.

"It said that it was the best fit for me," he said. "Something about having to prove myself." He didn't think that Draco could use that information against him in any way.

"Prove yourself?" Draco asked. "Prove yourself how?"

Harry shrugged.

"No idea," he lied. He knew how he had to prove himself. "What did the Sorting Hat say about you?"

Draco looked awkward.

"Not much," he said. "Just that it could tell Slytherin was the house for me."

Harry wasn't surprised. Draco acted like the poster child for Slytherin most of the time.

"Have you ever heard of a way to control dementors?" Harry asked as he shivered. He needed some warm food in his body or some chocolate. Thankfully he kept a stash of sweets in his trunk. "Or to make it so they'll leave a person alone?"

Draco nodded.

"Dumbledore did it at the Quidditch match," he said. "The dementors that watch the ground got distracted by us and tried to attack. There's obviously a way, otherwise the Ministry wouldn't use them to guard Azkaban."

"Are there human guards at Azkaban?" Harry asked, picking at the sleeve of his robe.

"There's a few Aurors," Draco said. "But of course, it's not a highly sought after job. The Aurors normally stay off the island, according to my father. They're normally in charge of transporting prisoners."

Harry nodded. He couldn't imagine the toll that job must take.

"I'd ask Professor Snape if you want to figure out how to defeat a dementor," Draco said. "He wouldn't apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position every year without knowing some things."

Draco had a point, Harry had to admit. Professor Snape was fearless and confident. He wouldn't apply for the job without knowing that he would be able to do his best in the position.

They had reached the common room. Harry entered first. He was lucky that the common room was mostly empty. He wasn't sure where his yearmates were but if he could escape the girls for a while, he was a happier boy. He wasn't like Draco. He didn't want girls fawning over him all the time.

For the rest of the weekend, it took all of Harry's Slytherin talents to avoid Tracey. He knew that if she found him, she would demand to know what had happened after he had been taken to the hospital wing.

Harry wouldn't be able to answer her questions because he really wasn't sure what had happened. Somehow he and Malfoy were on friendlier terms than they had been before. He wasn't quite sure what had contributed to the change.

Harry also couldn't answer the question of whom he heard screaming. It was a woman, that much was obvious. But he hadn't heard the voice before.

Or maybe he had. There was a woman he used to live with before the Dursleys. A woman whose voice he couldn't remember.

His mother.

Harry pushed the thought out of his mind. She was dead. He didn't want to believe that he was hearing a dead woman's voice.

After the Quidditch match, things continued normally at Hogwarts until Christmas time.

Shortly before Christmas, Severus Snape was in his lab, making the next batch of Wolfsbane potion for Professor Lupin. Once a month for nearly a week he spent his nights in the lab, making sure there was enough to get the werewolf through the full moon. Sometimes he even made sure there was extra when he was in a decent enough mood.

Many times throughout the week, Professor Snape found himself questioning Dumbledore's motives for hiring a werewolf to teach. He understood that there were very few applicants for the position, especially after such a notable figure as Gilderoy Lockhart lost his memory on the job, but he still didn't know why Professor Dumbledore denied him the job.

Oh, yes, Dumbledore gave his excuses for denying Severus the job but Severus suspected that the man was just trying to manipulate him. He didn't believe that the position was cursed or that he was too valuable for the headmaster to lose. He believed that Dumbledore refused to give him the position just because the man liked saying no to his requests.

The man had been saying no to Severus for a long time. He had said no after Voldemort was defeated when Severus wanted to stop spying. He said no when Severus said that he didn't want to teach, two years after Harry had been left with the Dursleys. He said no when Severus asked to leave the school and become a true Potions master shortly after Harry's fourth birthday.

Try as he might, Severus Snape couldn't get out from under Dumbledore's thumb. He had tried for years.

And while he was under Dumbledore's eye, he dare not contact Harry. He didn't want the man to know that he had any interest in the boy in fear that Dumbledore would ask questions. Even worse, he didn't want Dumbledore to try and manipulate Harry like Dumbledore manipulated him. He wanted the boy to have a normal life as much as possible.

Which was part of the reason why he had asked the Davises to be Harry's guardians. They were one of the most normal Slytherin families that weren't Death Eaters.

Severus Snape shook his head to clear his thoughts and started to bottle the Wolfsbane potion. He had to deliver the first dose of the month tonight.

His lips instinctively curled into a sneer as he approached Lupin's office. He entered the room without knocking.

"Severus." The werewolf acknowledged him with a nod of his head.

"Lupin," the Potions professor replied snidely. "Time to drink up."

Lupin made a face as the potion was set on his desk. He reached for it and lifted the potion to his lips. He made a face as he downed the Wolfsbane.

"Thank you once again," he said to Snape. "I know it makes your nights longer than they need to be."

"Save your thanks for Dumbledore," Severus said. "He's the one that keeps you employed and running around the school like a dog on a leash."

Lupin gave the dark-haired man a wry smile. Severus turned away.

"How did you react, finding out that Harry Potter was Sorted into Slytherin?" Lupin asked him suddenly. Snape paused and Lupin continued. "How did it feel knowing that your school rival's son was in your house?"

"I dealt," Snape said.

"Sirius would be upset, knowing that his godson was a Slytherin," Lupin said.

"Why are you asking these questions?" Snape demanded of the werewolf, who only shrugged.

"I'm curious," Remus replied. "I was surprised when I heard that he was in Slytherin. Everyone thought that he would be a Gryffindor."

Severus held his tongue. He wanted to tell Lupin that he was glad his son wasn't a foolish Gryffindor, where he could get into who knows how much trouble. He wanted to say that he was happy that his son broke away from what others expected of him. That he was proud that his son showed some of his traits.

Yet he knew that he couldn't say any of this to Lupin. The man wouldn't understand.

"I want to teach him how to defend himself against dementors," Lupin said as Severus began to walk away again. "I've never seen them affect a student so horribly before."

"Why are you talking to me, then?" Severus asked with a sneer. "Why don't you talk to him about it? Are you too frightened of a child?"

"I'd think he'd take it better knowing that I had your approval," Lupin said. "He doesn't seem to like me very much and seems to look up to you for whatever reason."

Severus glowered at Lupin.

"I don't care what you do as long as any students don't come to harm," he said. Lupin nodded.

"You have my word," he said. Severus's mouth tightened. He would never forgive the wolf if any harm came to his son this year.

"I'll bring another dose tomorrow," Snape said as he left the room. "Have a good dog nap, Lupin. Dream of chasing rabbits. I'm sure if you wake up and get hungry, there's a nice bone for you to gnaw on."

The last day of classes before the Christmas holidays, Professor Lupin kept Harry back after class. The Slytherin eyed his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor warily. He had done nothing to warrant being held back after class had finished.

"Did you need something, Professor Lupin?" Harry asked hesitantly. The man nodded.

"I've noticed how the dementors affect you," he said. Harry's cheeks reddened. "I wanted to offer you the opportunity of learning how to defend yourself against them. Professor Snape has already okayed the private lessons."

Harry's eyes widened. Had Professor Snape really done so?

"All right," he agreed. He had been meaning to ask Professor Snape about learning how to defeat dementors but something had always come up before he could talk to the man. Now Professor Snape was thinking ahead, like always.

Professor Lupin looked surprised at Harry's ready agreement. Apparently he had expected the boy to put up more of a fight.

"I will contact you after the holidays," the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor said. "Once I've rested a bit."

Harry nodded. He had noticed the professor got ill quite frequently.

"Are you staying here over the holidays?" Professor Lupin asked as Harry gathered up his materials. The boy nodded.

"I always stay at Hogwarts for the holidays," he said. "It's nice here."

Lupin smiled sadly.

"Yes," he agreed. "I suppose it is. Enjoy your holidays, Mr. Potter."

"Enjoy yours as well," Harry replied and left the classroom.

Harry didn't know what to expect for this Christmas holidays. He had decided to stay behind at Hogwarts, much to Tracey's disappointment. This was his first holiday knowing that he had an actual father, one that would also be at Hogwarts over the holidays.

Would they have a Christmas breakfast together? Would they exchange presents? Harry doubted it but he had picked up something in Hogsmeade just in case. He had decided when the year had started that the best Christmas present Professor Snape could give him was to spend time with him. Harry didn't expect much. He would be satisfied with an hour or two.

Not many Slytherins stayed behind this year. Only Blaise from Harry's year was staying and that was because the boy didn't want to deal with his new stepfather. According to Blaise the first Christmas was always the worst when his mother remarried. If the husbands even made it until then.

Christmas morning, to Harry's confusion, a house-elf woke him up bright and early.

"Pokey is to bring you to breakfast," the house-elf squeaked. Harry rubbed his eyes in confusion.

"But breakfast isn't for another few hours," he mumbled, trying not to wake Blaise. It wouldn't have mattered though. Blaise was a deep sleeper. Once he was asleep, very few things could wake the dark-skinned boy.

"Pokey is ordered by Professor Snape to bring you to breakfast," the house-elf urged. Harry's eyes widened. Professor Snape?

The third year lunged out of bed and quickly dressed. If Professor Snape was requesting his presence at a Christmas morning breakfast, Harry wasn't going to say no. Once dressed, the boy followed the house-elf to Professor Snape's personal quarters.

Reaching the rooms, Harry hesitated before knocking on the door. Even though he had dreamed about this happening throughout the term, he couldn't believe that it was actually happening.

The door opened immediately after he knocked. Harry took a deep breath and stepped inside. His eyes glanced all around the living area. It was simple but it felt much more homier than Spinners' End or the apartment he had stayed at during the summer.

Then his eyes landed on his father, who was sipping a cup of tea.

"Happy Christmas," Snape said quietly.

Harry grinned widely.

"Happy Christmas," he replied. His eyes landed on the food spread across the table. It was simple, nothing as elaborate as the feast that would be served that night, but Harry still thought that it was magnificent.

"Since there won't be a meal served until lunch," Professor Snape said. "I figured that we could celebrate the holiday over breakfast."

Harry's grin widened. Then he remembered the present in his hands.

"I got you a present," he said awkwardly. Professor Snape looked slightly surprised but he gestured to the chair next to him. There was a present sitting on the chair.

"As did I," he said. "But before we open presents, we should eat. Otherwise the food will go cold."

Harry quickly took a seat. Within minutes the two had fallen into the normal breakfast routine they had established in the summer. Breakfast was quiet for the most part but neither minded. The silence was peaceful and not awkward.

After breakfast, Pokey cleared away the table and Severus led his son over to the living area of his quarters. With a small blush, Harry handed over the present he had gotten for his father. He had never given family a present before.

Severus set the present at his side and handed Harry the small present he had gotten for the boy. Harry's green eyes watched him carefully as he took the present. At the professor's nod, the thirteen-year-old opened the present.

It was a set of potions books. One book was a detailed list of potions ingredients and their properties, along with a list of potions that they were most commonly found in. The other two were more advanced copies of the potions books that Harry currently owned.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly, tracing the spines of the books. He looked at his father, who was opening his present from Harry.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek. He hoped that the Potions professor would like his present. He hadn't been quite sure what to get the man and he hadn't had much money with him when he had last gone to Hogsmeade. It had been a spur of the moment decision to get his father something and Severus Snape was a very hard man to shop for.

The wrapping paper fell off the present to reveal a set of five quills. They were special quills that never needed to be re-sharpened and re-inked. Two of the five were specifically meant to be marking quills and when used, scratched out red ink. It wasn't much but Harry figured that the quills would be useful for his father.

"Thank you," Severus said quietly. Harry gave an awkward nod. The two sat on the couch for a minute in awkward silence. When Harry could no longer stand the silence, he did the only thing he could think of.

He hugged Professor Snape.

The man initially stiffened but after a few seconds, he carefully wrapped his arms around the small boy. The two stayed like that for a few moments before pulling away. Professor Snape cleared his throat.

"What should we do next?" he asked.

Harry returned to the Slytherin common room an hour before lunch would be served. Blaise was awake.

"You left early," he commented.

"I was restless," Harry replied. "Did you open your presents yet?"

Blaise shook his head.

"It's no fun to open them alone," he replied. "You have a few at the foot of your bed."

Harry nodded.

"I'll go get them and we can open them together," he said. Blaise gave a nod before settling down further in his armchair. His presents were next to the chair as he had brought them down when he had woken up and seen Harry missing from his bed.

Once in the dormitory, Harry slipped his new books from Professor Snape out of his robe pocket and placed them in his trunk. He would look over them later that evening.

Then Harry grabbed his handful of presents. He could tell which of his yearmates had given him what by the wrapping paper and how carefully it had been wrapped. There were only three presents that Harry couldn't recognize.

"More than last year," Blaise noted as Harry brought down his stack of presents.

"My popularity is growing," Harry remarked with a smirk. "You first?"

Blaise grabbed the present at the top of his pile and started to rip it open. After a few seconds Harry joined him.

Most of the presents Harry received from his yearmates were small things, such as candy from Honeydukes or items from Zonko's gift shop. Tracey's parents had given him a planner for the new term. That had been one of the unfamiliar packages in Harry's pile.

The second unfamiliar package was from Hermione. Harry hadn't thought they were close enough to give presents but apparently Hermione didn't think so. Harry would have to get her something the next time he was in Hogsmeade as a belated Christmas gift.

Finally, Harry unwrapped the third package. It was wrapped simply, in brown paper. Blaise was busy still unwrapping his own gifts to pay attention to Harry.

Green eyes narrowed as the paper fell away to reveal what looked like a spare bit of parchment. On top of the piece of parchment was a note.

_It's not the original but it works just the same. To reveal what lies under the concealment spells, the password is "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." To hide it from unwelcome eyes, say "Mischief Managed"_

_S._


	22. Year 3: Part 6

Harry's eyes narrowed in confusion. He thought that he had figured out who S. was. Was there another one? Or had he been wrong all along? He doubted that he had been but this note was very worrisome to the thirteen-year-old.

Harry put the piece of parchment and the note under a box of chocolates and other assorted sweets he had gotten from Pansy and Astoria. He would look at it later tonight when everyone else was asleep.

At lunchtime, Harry, Blaise and one other Slytherin made their way down to the Great Hall. It was perfect timing because Harry was beginning to get hungry after his early breakfast. Very few professors had remained at Hogwarts for the holidays and there were only three other students from other houses that had ended up staying.

Harry was glad that there wasn't much of a crowd, even though it was strange to be sitting at the same table as his professors. Professor Dumbledore was very enthusiastic and merry about the whole meal.

Like the past two Christmases, one of the best parts of the feat (other than the desserts) was the Christmas favors. Over the course of the meal, Harry acquired two new hats, a wand-polishing kit, a pillow, and a set of Exploding Snap cards.

After the lunch meal, Blaise headed for the Owlery. The other Slytherin went for a stroll among the corridors of Hogwarts. Taking advantage of the empty Slytherin boys' dormitory and common room, Harry headed back to examine his mystery present.

As soon as he stepped inside the Slytherin common room, Harry was running up the steps. He pulled the parchment out from under the box of chocolate and sweets he had hidden it under and read the note one more time.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he said breathlessly. Before his eyes, the piece of parchment turned into a map of Hogwarts castle. On the map were tiny dots moving about. Harry brought the map up closer to his eyes. The dots were people, he realized. Actual people in Hogwarts. This map showed where everyone was.

Harry searched the map. His father was in his office. Blaise was still in the Owlery. Hagrid was in his hut.

It was an amazing creation, Harry decided as he gaped at the map. But why had it been given to him? And if this was only a copy, what was the original like?

More importantly, who was this second 'S.'?

Harry stared at the map for a few more minutes before he noticed that Blaise was starting to head back to the common room. With great reluctance, he muttered "Mischief Managed' and tucked the map under his pillow.

For the rest of Christmas holidays, Harry relaxed. He began reading through the new books he had received from his father and, when no one else was around, he examined his new map. He also started on his reading for classes, knowing that time would be short once classes started and professors started piling on homework to prepare for final exams.

The day after Christmas, Harry had sent Hedwig to Hogsmeade with an owl order form for Honeydukes. He had ordered a box of sugar-free ice mice for the girl. The day before classes, Harry delivered the ice mice as a belated Christmas gift. He had cornered Hermione in the library and handed them over, blushing as he did so.

"Sorry they're late," he said. Hermione's eyes widened.

"It's okay," she said, cheeks pinking. "I really wasn't expecting anything."

"Well, you gave me something," Harry said. "It was only right that I give you something as well."

Hermione set the ice mice in her bag with another quiet thanks.

"So how was Christmas with your family?" Harry asked.

"It was nice," Hermione said. "Did you enjoy your holidays here at Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded.

"It was surprisingly nice," he said, thinking of the Christmas breakfast with his father and the map from the mysterious 'S.'

"What are you researching?" he asked Hermione, noticing the books spread out across the table.

"Nothing important," Hermione said. "I was talking to Professor McGonagall earlier and she mentioned Animagi. Did you know that she's one herself?"

Harry nodded. He remembered Professor McGonagall changing into a cat once or twice.

"Can anyone become an Animagi?" he asked. Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know yet," she said. "I just started researching. The only thing I've been able to find is that Animagi have to register with the Ministry of Magic."

"What happens if you don't?" Harry asked. Hermione shrugged again.

"Haven't gotten that far," she said. "I just sat down when you showed up."

Harry smiled at her testy tone. He had learned very quickly that Hermione hated to be interrupted when she was researching a subject.

"I won't interrupt then," he said. "I'll just sit here and do my own research."

Hermione gave an absent nod. She had already gone back to her books.

With the first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Harry remembered Lupin's request to teach him about protecting himself from the dementors. However, he wasn't overly anxious for the lessons to begin. He had other things to do. The next Hogsmeade wasn't for a while and Harry doubted that the dementors would show up at the next Quidditch match—which Harry didn't plan on attending. He didn't need to worry about dementors for a while.

After being in classes for a fortnight, Professor Lupin held Harry back after class.

"Are you still interested in those lessons?" he asked. Harry nodded and Lupin smiled wearily.

"All right then," the man said. "Are you free tonight?"

Harry nodded again.

"My office at seven, then," Lupin said, trying to not be thrown by Harry's lack of a verbal response. It seemed that the boy was still wary around him. He was all too familiar with how people acted when they were uncomfortable around him. It happened more often than he would have liked.

At seven o'clock on the dot, Harry knocked on Lupin's door. He hid his look of uncertainty when the professor let him in to the office.

"Now, I'm not quite sure that this will work, since you never faced the Boggart during my first lesson," the man said. "But if it doesn't, I'll just have you learn how to do the spell. It won't be as effective but we'll have no other choice since Dumbledore won't allow the dementors in the castle and I won't take you out there."

Harry's grip tightened on his wand.

"A Boggart?" he asked. "You think it will change into a dementor for me?"

"Possibly," Lupin said. "And if it doesn't, we'll think of something else."

Harry's lips thinned. He had a bad feeling about this lesson. Unlike Lupin, he wasn't sure that the Boggart would change into a dementor. Harry didn't know what it was that he feared the most. And he really didn't want to find out because knowing him, it would be something really horrible.

"Now, before I release the Boggart," Lupin said, moving on. "I'm going to teach you a Patronus Charm. Have you heard of it?"

Harry shook his head.

"I'm not surprised," Lupin said. "It's something that's not normally taught until you get into N.E.W.T. level courses, if then. Many times wizards and witches first learn it when they start training to become Aurors."

Harry frowned. Just another reason for him to not be an Auror then.

"The Patronus will act as a barrier between you and the dementor," Lupin said. "You have to have very happy and strong memories to successfully conjure a Patronus."

Harry's frown deepened. Strong, happy memories? He didn't have many of them. The only ones that came to mind were the day he had received the first letter from 'S.' and the day that Professor Snape had informed Harry that he was his father.

"What happens to those memories as the dementors feed off of it?" he asked. Professor Lupin looked surprised by his question. It was the type of question that not many would ask.

"They remain," he replied.

"As strong as they were before?" Harry asked.

"It depends on the person," Lupin said. "There have been accounts of people losing those memories or being unable to use the same memories after a while. However, there are also accounts that the same memory has worked every time a person has cast a Patronus charm."

The thirteen-year-old boy nodded.

"What's the incantation?" he asked, beginning to scour his mind for happy memories.

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," Professor Lupin replied. Harry nodded, muttering the incantation under his breath. He wanted to succeed. He had rarely failed at anything since he had come to Hogwarts.

"Concentrate on your memory," Professor Lupin said softly. Harry continued to mutter the incantation under his breath as he brought his memory to the forefront of his mind. He had chosen the memory of when Professor Snape had announced that he didn't have to return to the Dursleys the previous year.

"I'm going to release the Boggart now," Professor Lupin said, trying not to break the boy's concentration. He opened the trunk he had trapped the Boggart in and stepped back. The Boggart focused its attention on Harry.

Instead of turning into a dementor like Remus Lupin had expected, the Boggart transformed into a very large man with a purple-hued face and a thick mustache.

"We're to take you back, are we, boy?" the man demanded. "They tell us that we need to take you back and have you be a waste of space in our home."

Harry's wand dropped out of his hand. Lupin stepped between the boy and the Boggart. He barely cringed when the full moon appeared and banished the Boggart back into the trunk.

Remus Lupin turned back to the boy, who had gone white with fear.

"Harry?" he asked carefully, picking up the boy's wand and holding it out to the Slytherin. He didn't want to startle the boy anymore.

But the damage had already been done. Harry grabbed his wand and fled the room, shivering in fear. He didn't stop running until he had reached the dungeons.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor watched sadly as the third year fled. He hadn't expected things to go as wrong as they had. He normally thought himself a good judge of character but that hadn't been the case tonight. He had been fairly positive that dementors would have been Harry's biggest fear after seeing how they had affected him at the Quidditch match.

Apparently Harry Potter feared other things than dementors. Like that man. Remus Lupin didn't know who the man was but judging by the boy's reaction, he would guess it was his uncle. Vernon Dursley.

The next morning, Harry felt sick to his stomach. He knew that he wasn't ill. He was just sick with disappointment.

He had wanted to defeat dementors. He had wanted to learn how but at the sight of the Boggart transforming into his uncle, he had panicked. He had run before the lesson had truly started.

At least Harry knew the basics. He knew the incantation and what was required. That was enough for him.

The Slytherin was thankful he didn't have Defense Against the Dark Arts for the rest of the week. He wasn't sure that he could face Professor Lupin so soon after his failure.

After classes ended for the day, Harry took refuge in the library until dinner. He had homework to do and he wanted to be alone.

But Harry Potter rarely got what he wished for. After an hour of doing homework, Hermione showed up and made her way to where he was sitting.

"What's been with you recently?" Harry asked Hermione as she joined him.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"You've been odd in Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry pointed out. "You keep giving Professor Lupin strange looks."

Hermione smiled sheepishly.

"It's nothing," she said. "It's just…I have this theory about him."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell," he said. Hermione attempted to get comfortable in her seat.

"It's about his illnesses," she said. "I've been trying to figure out what they are."

"And what do you think it is?" Harry asked.

"I think he's a werewolf," Hermione said. Harry laughed, startled by the suggestion.

"A werewolf?" he asked. "Really?"

Hermione nodded.

"It all makes sense!" she said. "The illnesses that crop up once a month, normally around the full moon."

"Coincidence," Harry said.

"The boggart lesson," Hermione reminded him. "The boggart took the shape of a large white orb."

Harry shrugged.

"Could be anything," he said. "Doesn't necessarily mean it's a full moon. Any other observances?"

Hermione huffed.

"A few," she said. "But I won't waste my time telling  _you_. You'll just make up reasons for them being so or chalk it up to being coincidence. Never mind that the facts all fit."

"Do you really think that Professor Dumbledore would hire a werewolf, though?" Harry asked. "And potentially put his students in danger? I really don't see the board of governors allowing that and they'd have to know that Professor Lupin was a werewolf."

Hermione's mouth tightened. He had a good point but still…the facts fit.

"I think you're just imagining things," Harry said. "Which I can understand. After all, this would be the first year when we've had a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that wasn't a madman or a fraud. Hard to believe that we'd actually get a normal professor for once."

Hermione sighed.

"Whatever," she mumbled. "How are you doing on the Ancient Runes homework?"

Late that night, Harry lay in bed thinking about how everything had gone wrong the previous night. It still ate at him. He felt that he had failed and Harry hated the thought and feeling of failure. Slytherins didn't fail, he had learned. Or they didn't admit to failing at least.

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep anytime soon, Harry pulled the map he had gotten for Christmas out from under his pillow.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he whispered and watched as the map revealed itself.

Most students were where they should be, considering it was nearly one in the morning. There were six students in each dormitory. Harry could see Filch roaming the corridors near the Great Hall while Mrs. Norris roamed the kitchen corridor. Professor McGonagall was in her office, as was Professor Flitwick. They were on night duty tonight.

Harry idly read and counted the names of each student in every dormitory. It was a relaxing exercise for him because he knew what to expect. Things were the same until he reached the Gryffindor third year boys' dormitory.

There should have been six names. Instead there were seven.

Harry lifted the map closer to his face. Were two of the names in the same bed?

Harry recognized one of the two names. Ronald Weasley. He knew Ron. He didn't know the second name.

Peter Pettigrew. The name rang a bell but Harry was positive it wasn't a student.

Harry shook his head and whispered, "mischief managed". He would look up the name in the morning. He didn't need a mystery right now. Not when he needed to sleep.

The next day was Saturday, the start of a weekend. There was a Quidditch match that afternoon but Harry had his excuses all planned out. And in case excuses didn't work, Harry had an escape route planned. He had promised Draco he would attend any more Quidditch matches since Draco believed he carried bad luck with him wherever he went. Harry was inclined to agree.

Another reason Harry had for missing the Quidditch match was because he wanted time to research Peter Pettigrew.

There wasn't much about Peter Pettigrew, he learned a few hours later. The man was only mentioned in articles that detailed the crimes of Sirius Black and usually just as a victim of a fatal attack. Harry was disgusted by the lack of information. Any information that he could find was biased.

An hour before dinner, Hermione found Harry and sat down with a huff. She crossed her arms and looked furious. Tracey trailed after her.

"What's going on?" Harry asked. Normally he didn't see the two girls together unless he was present. Tracey shrugged.

"I found her storming around the castle on my way up here," she said blithely. "Something or someone made her angry."

"I can hear you," Hermione snapped. "It's Ronald."

"Surprise, surprise," Tracey muttered under her breath.

"He think Crookshanks has some sort of petty grudge against his rat," Hermione ranted. "Never mind that Crookshanks is a cat and cats hunt rats naturally. Now Scabbers has gone missing and he is blaming me for it. He thinks Crookshanks has killed his rat."

Harry blinked. He didn't know what to say.

"Well, does he have any proof?" he asked. Hermione glared at him and Harry realized that it had been the wrong thing to say.

"Boys," Hermione snapped and stormed off. Tracey gave Harry an amused look.

"So—" she began but Harry shook his head.

"Don't start," he said. "She's nice enough."

"For a Gryffindor," Tracey commented. "They're always so overdramatic."

"And you aren't?" Harry asked idly. Tracey rolled his eyes.

"Not as much as some other people in our House," she said, referring to Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. Harry smirked.

"Definitely not," he agreed.

The fight with Ron must have affected Hermione more than she let on. She began to hang around him more, much to the displeasure of her Gryffindor housemates and Harry's fellow Slytherins.

Despite this, Harry wasn't about to turn Hermione away when she sought him out. He had noticed that the girl didn't have too many friends. It was just him and Neville that hung around Hermione since she was fighting with Ron.

The only one that didn't protest at Hermione's increasing presence around Harry was Tracey. When Harry asked about it, Tracey had replied with a simple,

"Every girl needs a friend that is a girl. We might not be close but I can't expect her to only hang around boys. It wouldn't be right."

Harry didn't really understand but he didn't ask any more questions. He had a feeling that he would only be insulted at the end of that conversation.

Nothing eventful happened for another few weeks. Harry was beginning to realize that he liked it when Hogwarts seemed like a normal school. He longed for the normalcy when things out of the ordinary happened.

Harry hadn't personally been aware of the events that night but Hermione had filled him and Tracey in. The girl had approached him at breakfast, looking shaken.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Sirius Black broke into the castle last night," Hermione announced. Tracey gasped and her hand flew to her mouth.

"How?" Harry asked, scanning the Great Hall. Now that Hermione had approached him, he was beginning to notice that all of Gryffindor house looked shaken and exhausted.

"The professors don't know," Hermione said. "But he got into the Gryffindor common room late last night. He tried attacking Ron in the third year boys' dormitory."

Harry's eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Why Ron?" he asked. Hermione shrugged.

"Does Black need a reason to do anything?" Tracey asked. "Azkaban would have driven him mad."

"The professors think that he was confused. They think he was looking for someone else."

Harry frowned. It still didn't make sense.

"Did they find him?" he asked. He would wonder more later about who or what Sirius Black was after.

Hermione shook her head.

"He got away," she said. "But how does he keep getting into the castle?"

Tracey shrugged.

"How did he know the password to get inside the Gryffindor tower?" Harry asked. Hermione's cheeks reddened.

"The portrait let him in," she said. "Somehow Black knew the password for the night but no one knew how. The knight guarding the portrait said that Black had it written down but no one had written them down."

"Not even Neville?" Harry asked. Hermione shook her head.

"I always remember the passwords for him," she said. "And we always go back to the tower together."

"The parents won't be happy," Tracey murmured. "That's the second time Black has broken into the school, despite the dementors guarding every entrance to the grounds."

Not every entrance, Harry thought. There was always the Forbidden Forest. The dementors couldn't guard every inch of the Forbidden Forest.

After news of Black's attack had made its way among the student body, the students easily noticed the extra precautions being taken. All of the professors were on alert and patrols of the castle were happening more frequently.

Severus Snape was on one such patrol later that day. He had been called to search the castle once Minerva McGonagall had been informed of Black's intrusion in Gryffindor tower.

Most of the professors still believed that Sirius Black was after Harry Potter. Many of them thought that Black was still under the assumption that Harry Potter had been sorted into Gryffindor. Severus wasn't so sure. Black may be rash, foolish, and hotheaded but he wasn't the type to make the second mistake twice. Not to mention it was common knowledge that Harry was a Slytherin. It had been the subject of gossip for months in his first year.

No, Professor Snape was beginning to think that Sirius Black was after something else. There had to be something in the Gryffindor common room that Sirius Black was after.

It relieved the Potions professor to know that Black wasn't after his son. It was one less thing he needed to worry about. However, he now had to figure out what it was that Sirius Black was  _truly_  after.


	23. Year 3: Part 7

Remus Lupin stared at the letter that had come in the middle of the night. The owl had awakened him, something that Remus hadn't been happy about. He hadn't been sleeping well, with the full moon approaching, and any sleep was necessary and welcome.

The letter was the last thing the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had expected. It had thrown everything he had believed out the window.

The letter was written on old parchment, tattered and crinkled. The ink was thin, as if it had been homemade.

_Moony,_

_Pettigrew is alive. He never died that night. He masquerades as the rat for one of the boys in the Weasley family._

_I know that you thought I was the secret-keeper for the Potters but at the last minute, James switched his decision to Pettigrew. The rat was a traitor for Voldemort and gave the location away. When I went after him to avenge James and Lily, the coward cut off his finger and caused the street to explode before transforming and disappearing, blaming everything on me._

_That night ruined me and now I am trying to take my revenge on Pettigrew. Believe me when I tell you that I never betrayed James. He was my best friend and the one good thing my family taught me is that you never betray your friends. You protect your own._

_I don't expect you to believe me but give me a few months. Once I have Pettigrew in hand, I will prove my innocence to you._

_Search for Pettigrew on the map. I know you have a copy._

_Padfoot_

Lupin's lips thinned as he reread the letter. He wasn't sure what to believe. He had never known Sirius to lie but he had been so positive that James had named Sirius the secret-keeper. Sirius was privy to things that James would never consider telling Remus or Peter. It had always been that way. It was natural that Sirius would have been made secret-keeper for the Potters.

However, Sirius's explanation had answered questions that had been plaguing Remus Lupin for the past few weeks. It answered his questions as to why Black kept going to Gryffindor tower instead of to the Slytherin dungeons.

Remus sighed. He supposed it was time to get out his map.

When he was at school, he, James, Sirius, and Peter had created the Marauder's Map to assist them with their mischief making. After the first had been created, three more were quickly copied. James had kept the original since he was the unofficial leader of their group. Sirius, Remus, and Peter had kept the copies. Remus was unaware of what had happened to the other three maps. He had kept his. Pettigrew's had been confiscated their seventh year and Remus had never learned if Peter had gotten it back.

Remus read the letter one more time. It was definitely time to get out his map. He needed to see if he could find Peter Pettigrew anywhere on the Hogwarts grounds.

The second term of Hogwarts always seemed to go faster than the first, Harry decided as he stared out the window in a Divination class. He was considering dropping Divination as an elective but was reluctant to do so. He considered dropping a course similar to admitting that he had failed at it and the thought of failure still rankled him.

Harry idly entertained the thought of storming out of the classroom like Hermione had at the beginning of the spring but he soon discarded that thought. He was no Gryffindor. He didn't like making a scene.

Hermione storming out of Divination had been the resolve of her and Ron's fight. The next day Harry had seen them talking pleasantly at breakfast. He had been surprised that it had been resolved so easily but he kept his thoughts silent.

Before Harry knew it, it was time for exams. With the extra classes Harry was taking, he found himself more stressed than ever. He was fairly certain that he was going to fail his Divination exam. Crystal balls were the subject of the exam and Harry had yet to see anything in the orbs. The only chance he had at passing was if he predicted his own death. Professor Trelawney loved theatrics, he had learned within the first week of classes.

With the increased stress of exams, tempers ran high. One afternoon, Harry received a letter from Hagrid stained with tears, declaring that Buckbeak, the hippogriff that had attacked Draco Malfoy at the beginning of the year, was to be executed.

Harry was furious. He had cornered the blond-haired boy in the dormitory.

"You're mad," he snarled. "You've sentenced an innocent creature to death!"

"It's vicious!" Malfoy retorted. "It attacked me without provocation!"

Harry didn't believe a word.

"You weren't listening in that class," he said. "Hagrid was giving warnings, which I doubt you heard."

"He shouldn't be allowed to teach in the first place," Malfoy growled. "He doesn't have a license! And I doubt that Lupin has a license either. They only have their jobs because of Dumbledore."

"So you're getting an innocent creature killed because you think that Hagrid isn't suited for the job?" Harry demanded. "Don't you understand how wrong that sounds?"

"It would have died eventually," Malfoy said. "Especially with that oaf looking after it."

"You're a prat," Harry snarled before storming away. He knew that it would be futile to get Malfoy to see the error of his ways. The blond would always insist that he was in the right, even when others suffered for his mistakes.

After Harry and Draco's fight, which most of Slytherin house remained unaware of, exams passed without event. Harry had expected something to happen during Divination especially, but he was disappointed. All he had to do was look into a crystal ball.

For once, Harry thought he saw a form but it refused to become clear. Unable to see anything, he went with his back-up plan and predicted his death by claiming he had seen a Grim. He added as much drama into his prediction as he could but it wasn't much, considering his limited acting skills. Still, Harry thought that Professor Trelawney was convinced. He hoped that she was.

Harry returned to his dormitory after the exam and pulled out his map. The dormitory and most of the Slytherin dungeons were empty. His housemates were taking advantage of the nice weather and the end of exams. No doubt there would be some sort of party tonight or tomorrow night to celebrate the end of the year.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Harry said quickly and waited for the map to reveal itself. He had taken to using the map more frequently over the months. It saved him from having to traverse the entire castle when he was looking for some company.

Tracey was in her last exam. Neville was in the Gryffindor common room. Most of Harry's yearmates that had finished exams were down by the Black Lake. Professor Snape was administering exams for fourth years.

Harry sighed in disappointment. It had been a while since he had talked with his father.

Harry glanced at the map one more time and his eyes narrowed in confusion when he saw a familiar name. No, that couldn't be right. Peter Pettigrew was dead.

However, according to the map, Peter Pettigrew was in Hagrid's cabin, along with Hermione, Ron, and Hagrid.

Harry stuffed the map in his robes' pocket. He had to go to Hagrid's hut. He wanted to find out what was going on.

When the Slytherin reached Hagrid's hut, he glanced at the map one more time. Peter Pettigrew was still inside the hut. Harry tentatively knocked, not knowing what he would find inside the cabin.

Ron answered the door. He gave Harry a wary look.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" he asked sharply. Harry brushed past him and looked around the cabin. Hagrid was sitting at the table, along with Hermione. Fang lay underneath the table.

"How are you doing Hagrid?" he asked, trying not to act suspicious as he continued to scan the cabin. There was no sign of Pettigrew anywhere.

"Bin better," Hagrid muttered into his tankard. Harry didn't know how to respond. What could one say when a friend's pet was scheduled to be executed.

"I tried to talk Malfoy out of it," Harry said carefully. "But he wouldn't listen. He never does."

Hagrid took a drink out of his tankard.

"Hagrid found Scabbers for Ron," Hermione said, changing the subject. "Crookshanks didn't kill him after all."

She gave Ron a look that was a mixture of contempt and triumphant. Ron glared back at her, not happy to have been proven wrong. Harry fidgeted awkwardly.

"So where's Scabbers then?" Harry asked, wanting to take a look at this infamous rat that had caused so much trouble between the two Gryffindors. Ron brought the rat out of his pocket.

Harry took a quick glance at the rat. A toe on one of the rat's feet was missing.

Just like a finger had been missing from Peter Pettigrew.

Harry's green eyes widened. Was Pettigrew an Animagi? There could be no other answer. Pettigrew had shown up on the map, despite the fact that he should be dead. There was no other person in Hagrid's hut besides Ron and Hermione. There was no other reason.

Harry forced a smile on to his face.

"Well, I'm glad things worked out," he said, heart racing. He needed to tell someone about his findings.

Harry glanced at the door.

"Well, I've got to go," he said. "I have a meeting with Professor Snape but I wanted to come down here to see how things were going first."

Not waiting for a response, Harry darted out of the cabin. He needed to find Professor Snape.

Harry was halfway up the lawn when Hermione and Ron caught up to him.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asked. "You're very pale, all of a sudden."

Harry gave a jerky nod.

"I'm fine," he said.

"Why are you worrying about him, Hermione," Ron hissed. "He's a Slytherin."

Harry ignored Ron and picked up his pace.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked again. Harry nodded. "You're walking very fast."

"I just remembered that I have a lot to do," Harry replied. Ron yelped suddenly and made Harry start. The Slytherin turned, hand gripping his wand tightly.

"Scabbers just bit me!" Ron said, looking around on the ground. "He's trying to run away!"

"There," Hermione pointed out, seeing a gray form scurrying through the grass. Ron took off after the rat. Hermione followed. Harry watched them go and shook his head. He needed to find Professor Snape. He was sure that they could catch the rat.

Harry continued up the lawn. As he reached the steps that led to the entrance to Hogwarts, Professor Lupin stepped outside.

"Evening, Professor," Harry said in a dull voice, trying not to look anxious. The last thing he wanted to do was to be stopped for looking suspicious. Knowing Professor Lupin, the man would drag him to the hospital wing to be looked over by Madam Pomfrey.

Thankfully Professor Lupin seemed to be distracted as well. He barely acknowledged Harry as the two passed each other.

Harry made his way down to Professor Snape's office, hoping that the man was in his office. He reached the Potions professor just in time. Professor Snape had been leaving his office, holding a potion.

"Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said. "Where are you off to?"

"I need to talk to you, sir," Harry said quickly.

"Later, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape replied. "I need to deliver this potion to Professor Lupin first."

"He's just left the castle," Harry reported. "I was coming from Hagrid's hut and passed him on my way in."

Snape's eyes widened. Why was Lupin leaving the castle? He hadn't taken his potion yet. Didn't the man realize how risky that was?

Dark eyes narrowed. Of course Lupin knew how risky that was.

"Well, while I'm tracking down Professor Lupin," he said in a low voice. "There are potions on my desk that need to be delivered to Madam Pomfrey. Do you think you can manage that, Potter?"

Harry nodded. Professor Snape stepped around that boy and pocketed the potion, growling under his breath. He had a wolf to hunt down.

The Slytherin third year watched his father go, trying to push down the dread that was rising up inside him. He believed that Pettigrew was alive and he needed to tell someone. He knew that they wouldn't believe him most likely but Professor Snape had always proved that he was willing to listen.

Harry darted into the office and grabbed the basket of potions that needed to go to the hospital wing. If he hurried, he could be back around the same time that Professor Snape came back.

With that goal in mind, Harry practically sprinted to the hospital wing, being careful to make sure that the vials didn't break or accidentally spill on his journey across the castle.

"Mr. Potter!" Madam Pomfrey said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Harry held out the basket of potions.

"Professor Snape sent me," he said. "He couldn't deliver these personally. He had to go find Professor Lupin for something."

Madam Pomfrey. She had an idea of what the Potions professor had to find Lupin for.

"Take those over to the cabinets," she ordered. "I have a few things to do but it would help me if you would start putting the potions away. They're arranged alphabetically. You should have no troubles as Professor Snape always does a good job of labeling his potions."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but no words came out. It would be rude if he didn't do what Madam Pomfrey asked and she would become suspicious as to why he was in a rush.

So the third year resigned himself to alphabetizing potions. Hopefully Professor Snape wouldn't go anywhere in the next few hours once he returned from delivering the potion to Professor Lupin.

Madam Pomfrey was delighted with the extra help. She bustled about the hospital wing, cleaning furiously. She normally wouldn't have had the time to do such a thorough cleaning but it was useful having a student help her.

When Harry was done alphabetizing the stock of potions Professor Snape had ordered him to bring to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey kept him busy washing out extra vials and making sure that they were stored properly. Harry gritted his teeth whenever she gave him a new task to do. He wanted to say no to her requests but couldn't seem to manage to get the words out.

Delighted by the help, Madam Pomfrey managed to keep Harry busy until it was time for curfew. Harry would have snuck down to Professor Snape's office once she let him go for the night but the nurse found a prefect passing by and asked him to deliver Harry to his common room. Harry dragged his feet the entire way there, hating that he had lost the opportunity to talk to Professor Snape. He considered dragging out the Invisibility Cloak but he had a feeling his father would be furious if he found out about the cloak.

When they reached the common room, Harry went straight to bed despite knowing that he wouldn't get a wink of sleep until he had talked to Professor Snape.

Severus growled under his breath when he realized that he couldn't locate Lupin anywhere on the Hogwarts' lawn. He hoped that the werewolf wouldn't bas as stupid as to think he could spend the night in the Forbidden Forest or anywhere outside of the castle without having his potion. Severus wouldn't allow any students come to harm and if that meant facing off against and neutralizing a werewolf, he would do so.

He knew it had only been a matter of time until something went wrong. It was the risk that was associated with hiring a werewolf as a professor. If he got through the night intact, Dumbledore would be getting an earful, he decided. He had warned the man….

Snape's scanning dark eyes landed on the Whomping Willow, which was unusually still. Almost like it had been frozen…Odd. Even when students weren't bothering it, the Whomping Willow fought against imaginary foes, such as the birds or the wind. It was never this still….

Which meant only one thing. Someone must have gone through the path underneath the Whomping Willow. Snape was willing to bet that it was Lupin.

The Potions professor snarled under his breath. Idiotic man. What was he thinking?

As he made his way down to the Whomping Willow, Severus noticed signed of a struggle. A large figure had been dragged toward the tree. A humanoid figure. It made the dark-haired man even more apprehensive. The marks weren't large enough for an adult to have been dragged under the Whomping Willow, which meant it had to have been a child.

Things definitely weren't looking well.

Snape used a spell to freeze the tree again. It had started acting up again as he approached it. The spell wouldn't last long but it was long enough to let him into the tunnel that the tree had been planted over.

In the tunnel, Severus followed the pathway, already knowing where it would lead to. The Shrieking Shack. He pushed the memories away of what happened down in this tunnel the last time he had followed someone into it. Now wasn't the time for reminiscing.

Once the Potions professor reached the Shrieking Shack, he braced himself for an attack. He didn't know if Lupin had transformed yet. If the man had, he couldn't afford to be caught unaware.

There was nothing but Snape could hear voices on the second level. As silently as he could, he walked up the stairs, wand at the ready in case something jumped out at him.

Peering into the room, Snape sighed in relief when he saw a human Lupin. The man hadn't transformed yet. That meant that there was still time to administer the Wolfsbane potion.

Then Snape's eyes landed on the other three people in the room. He wanted to curse them out, especially the two students. What were Granger and Weasley doing, associating with the likes of Sirius Black? From the sounds of it, the four hadn't been in the Shrieking Shack long.

Lupin and Black were working together, he realized, listening to the conversation. And they needed something that either Weasley or Granger had. Something of value.

The thought of Weasley having anything of value made him want to sneer. However, it would make sense as to why Sirius Black had always gone to the Gryffindor common room whenever he was inside the castle. Harry had never been his target. His son had never been in danger from Sirius Black.

Severus still had his wand out and ready to be used if needed but he wasn't going to intervene unless it looked like Weasley and Granger were in immediate danger. They were safe from Lupin for a while. The windows of the Shrieking Shack were boarded up, preventing moonlight from getting in. As long as the rays of the moon didn't touch Lupin, he would remain in his human form.

"Give me Pettigrew!" Black demanded of the students. "I know you have him! I saw him with you in Hagrid's hut!"

"What are you talking about?" Ron demanded, looking bewildered. "Pettigrew? Who's Pettigrew?"

"Peter Pettigrew?" Hermione asked. "You killed him twelve years ago! Didn't you?"

Remus Lupin gave Sirius Black a confused look. Until he had gotten Sirius's message a few weeks ago, he had believed the same thing. Sirius gave a wild, insane laugh.

"Kill Pettigrew?" he asked in disbelief. "I didn't kill Pettigrew, even though I should have. The little coward deserves to die for betraying James's family. Pettigrew ran away once he realized that I had figured out what happened and when I caught up to him, he cut off his finger and blew up the street before transforming into a rat."

Hermione's eyes flicked toward the pocket of Ron's robes where she knew his rat Scabbers had hidden. She knew that Scabbers was missing a toe. Was Scabbers Peter Pettigrew in disguise? It was unlikely but she knew that such things as unregistered Animagi existed.

"Prove it," Lupin said. "Prove Pettigrew's alive and I'll take him to the dementors."

Remus didn't want to get his hopes up, especially without proof of Pettigrew being alive. If he got his hopes up only to have them crushed again, he might not survive. He had barely survived the grief twelve years ago when he realized that he had lost his three closest friends.

"Give me Pettigrew," Black demanded of the two Gryffindors again. "Now!"

"But I don't have Pettigrew!" Ron protested.

"Give him Scabbers," Hermione said quietly, beginning to piece things together.

"Scabbers isn't Pettigrew!" Ron said. "He's never shown signs of being human before."

"Just give him Scabbers," Hermione hissed. "Or I will." She turned to Sirius Black. "You'll let us go once you have Pettigrew?" she asked. Black nodded.

Ron reluctantly withdrew his rat out of his pocket and handed it over to Lupin. Sirius Black stared at the rat with hungry eyes. He could practically taste his freedom. Out in the hallway, Snape's grip on his wand tightened.

Lupin waved his wand over the rat. Furious, Snape watched as the rat transformed into a human right before his eyes. Peter Pettigrew, the one who had betrayed his family…

The traitorous rat was still alive.

Remus Lupin had been keeping an eye on Sirius so his old friend wouldn't kill Pettigrew. They needed Pettigrew alive if they wanted to have the slightest of chances to prove Sirius's innocence. They needed Pettigrew to free Sirius.

However, the werewolf hadn't been expecting the door to explode off its hinges. Severus Snape stood in the doorway, wand extended and a murderous glint in his eye.


	24. Year 3: Part 8

Sirius snarled upon seeing Snape. Why was he here?

"Snivellus," he growled, automatically reverting back to the childhood nickname for the Potions professor. Severus's murderous glare turned on him before turning back on to Pettigrew, who was trying to squirm out of Lupin's grasp.

"Severus," Lupin said with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Severus reached into his robes to draw out the vial of Wolfsbane potion he had with him.

"You forgot to take your potion," he informed Lupin, whose eyes widened. "Very reckless of you, especially with students wandering about after hours."

Snape turned his glare on Granger and Weasley, who flinched back. Then Hermione gasped as she looked at the potion.

"That's Wolfsbane, isn't it?" she asked. Lupin gave a reluctant nod.

"Then that means you're a werewolf," she said as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor downed the potion, grimacing as it traveled down his throat.

"I'm a werewolf," Lupin confirmed. "I was bitten as a child. Dumbledore has been kind enough to look past my condition this year and when I went to school here."

"Leave us," Professor Snape ordered Hermione and Ron. "Go back to the castle and fetch Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore. Tell them that I sent for them and it's urgent. Nothing else." That would be enough to make the headmaster and deputy headmistress move quickly.

"Now!" Snape snapped when the two students hesitated.

"Ron's leg is broken, sir," Hermione said. Severus glanced down at the boy's leg. He could see it bent at an odd angle.

"Then I suggest that you go alone, Miss Granger," he informed the girl. "Mr. Weasley will be brought to the hospital wing shortly."

Hermione nodded. She gave Ron an apologetic look before darting out of the room. Severus could hear her pounding down the steps. He kept his wand trained on Black. Lupin's wand was pointed at Pettigrew.

"Start talking, Black," Severus ordered coldly. Black glared at him. "Or I start throwing curses," Severus threatened. "I know quite a few now."

Black sneered but began to talk.

"You remember Peter Pettigrew, don't you?" he asked. Snape nodded. He had loathed the cowardly Gryffindor when he was in school. He had never understood how the likes of Pettigrew had become friends with James Potter.

"You're supposed to be dead," he told Pettigrew, who shivered under his cold stare.

"He framed me," Black said. "And he's been masquerading as a rat for the past twelve years."

"My rat," Ron Weasley muttered, slightly stunned by the turn of events.

"I'm going to kill him," Black whispered, eyes mad. Severus grit his teeth. Black was still as idiotic as ever, then.

"If you think that I will allow murder on the grounds of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade…" he said in a low voice. "But I am not surprised that murder is your plan, since you already attempted it once when you were a student."

Sirius glared at Severus.

"You're still on about that?" he asked.

"You tried to kill me," Severus reminded the mad man. "I won't ever forget that."

"It was a joke," Sirius snapped. "You overreacted, like always."

A cough from Lupin broke into their fighting. Severus directed his attention back to Pettigrew. As tempting as it was to kill the rat, there would be no use in Pettigrew's death. The Potions professor briefly considered allowing Black to kill the rat and then handing over the escaped prisoner to the dementors to ensure that Black would be unable to try and obtain guardianship of his son but he discarded that thought. It would be foolish.

"Why are you here tonight, Lupin?" Severus demanded. "I thought you were against helping old friends into the castle after hours." He made sure the mocking tone was strong in his voice.

"I received a letter from Sirius a few weeks ago," Remus replied. "And I saw Pettigrew reappear on school grounds earlier. I came to investigate."

"And put students at risk," Severus sneered. "And here Dumbledore convinced me that you were harmless."

Remus glared at the dark-haired man.

"Are you going to let me kill Pettigrew or not?" Black demanded, lunging for the rat. Snape forced the man back with a stinging hex.

"Don't be rash, Black, despite how impossible it is for you," he said. "Unless you want to return to Azkaban and receive the Dementor's Kiss."

Black paled but his eyes were still manic as he stared at Pettigrew, who was quivering in fear.

"I don't care," he said. Severus tried not to roll his dark eyes.

"Then I will take delight in informing your godson of your fate," he said, reminding Black of Harry. It was risky but Severus was trying to ensure that Pettigrew remained alive. He needed to know how much Pettigrew knew, especially about Lord Voldemort and the night the Potters died. There were some details that were still unclear to the wizarding world and Snape was sure that Pettigrew held the answers.

Sirius's wild grin faded at the mention of Harry. Regret flashed in his eyes.

"What else am I supposed to do?" he asked. "Let this rat go free?" He laughed bitterly at the thought.

"I'll take Pettigrew back to the castle," Lupin suggested quietly. "The dementors are already here so they can transport him to Azkaban. If we handle this right, you can be free, Sirius. You can get to know Harry, Sirius."

Severus frowned. Sirius's eyes flickered to the dark-haired man but the former prisoner sighed as he silently agreed. He would rather be free than locked back up in Azkaban.

"He's awfully quiet," Sirius commented, aiming a kick in Pettigrew's direction.

"Silencing charm," Remus explained. "You know how he can whine, especially when feeling threatened."

Ron cleared his throat, reminding the adults of his presence.

"So, what's going to happen?" he asked. Lupin glanced at Severus, who sneered in return.

"We go back to Hogwarts," Lupin said, ensuring that Pettigrew couldn't escape. Since there was a silencing spell on the rat, they didn't have to worry about Pettigrew undoing any spells or transforming back into his Animagus form. "But first, I think your leg will need to be strapped before you move."

Ron glared at Black, who was the one responsible for his broken leg. Black stared back, unapologetic. He would do anything to get his revenge. He would even play nice with Severus "Snivellus" Snape.

Severus glanced around at the motley crew. He had Pettigrew tied up in chains, with his magic bound so he couldn't transform back into his rat form. He had Lupin, who he didn't want to be around any students, Weasley included. He had Weasley, who couldn't walk unassisted due to his broken leg. And he had Black, who the dementors would attack as soon as they sensed his presence on school grounds.

The man sighed. Just once he would have liked for things to go his way.

"Lupin, help Weasley," he ordered. The redhead didn't look thrilled to be so close to the werewolf but he swallowed his complaints and accepted the help in getting to his feet. "Black, grab Pettigrew."

"Why should I obey your orders, Snivellus?" Sirius sneered. Severus glared at the man.

"I was going to help prove your innocence, Black," Snape sneered. "Since I dislike Pettigrew even more than I dislike you—something I didn't realize was possible—but if you don't want me to, I will be more than willing to let the dementors get you. In fact, I will even direct them right toward you."

Sirius's sneer grew but he stayed silent when Severus barked out his next orders. The potions master knew that it probably wasn't the best thing to let Black guide Pettigrew down the tunnel as they made their way back to Hogsmeade but he didn't care. The rat had cost him a relationship and a family. Any injuries Pettigrew sustained from Black were well deserved in Snape's opinion.

As they reached the end of the tunnel, Severus was the first out. He froze the Whomping Willow before assisting Lupin in levitating Weasley out of the tunnel. Pettigrew was levitated up next.

"Don't come up," Severus ordered Sirius when the man tried to exit the tunnel.

"You won't be able to stop me," Sirius snapped.

"The dementors will be able to sense you," Severus snapped. He wasn't surprised that Black was unwilling to see sense. "They'll come straight away."

"I won't stay behind to let you take all the credit!" Black growled. Severus huffed in annoyance. It was obvious that Black hadn't changed since their school years but he was unsurprised. The man had always been slightly on the dim side.

"It's your own head," Severus bit out. He didn't want to deal with Black any longer than was needed. "But if you're really masochistic enough to suffer the Dementor's Kiss, be my guest."

"I was always under the impression that you were the masochist," Black growled. Severus did his best to ignore that comment, despite the slight truth behind the statement. He did have masochistic tendencies at times. That much had been clear when he entered his first relationship.

"I can get around the dementors," Black said, before shifting into a large black dog. Severus rolled his dark eyes. Another unregistered Animagi. The Ministry of Magic was slacking. How much havoc had Black caused in that form?

"Stay behind Lupin," Professor Snape ordered. "Black can support Weasley." He still didn't want the werewolf anywhere near students on this night. Lupin had taken the potion but it was always better to be on the safe side.

Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were waiting at the entrance to the castle for Snape. He gave them a curt nod.

"What's going on, Severus?" Professor McGonagall asked. She glanced at the group. Her eyes widened as they landed on Pettigrew's bound and pathetic form.

"Is that Peter Pettigrew?" she asked. Black gave an affirming yip. Severus shot the dog a sharp look. If Black insisted on tagging along, he should keep a low profile. Which, in Snape's opinion, meant not acting like a human or letting on to the fact that he understood English.

Albus Dumbledore gave the dog a knowing look.

"I will summon the Minister of Magic," he said. "While Minerva will go fetch a vial of Veritaserum from Severus's stores and take Mr. Weasley to the hospital wing and while Severus will take Pettigrew to my office."

Severus nodded and did as requested. Sirius Black trailed him and Pettigrew. Severus sneered at the dog when its tail began to wave. Now wasn't the time to start celebrating.

The closer they got to Dumbledore's office, the more Pettigrew began to struggle. However, without his magic, he was as weak as a second year girl. It was pathetic in both Black and Snape's opinions.

Within an hour, Cornelius Fudge, a squad of Aurors, Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and a black dog stood around Peter Pettigrew, who had been unbound enough to speak.

"What are you doing?" Pettigrew demanded. "Why am I tied up? I'm innocent!"

"You're very quick to proclaim your innocence, Peter," Professor McGonagall said. "Especially since we haven't accused you of anything yet."

"But you're going to!" Pettigrew squeaked. "Why else would I be tied up like a criminal?"

"I have a quick way to solve this issue," Severus interjected. He reached over and began rolling up the left sleeve of Pettigrew's robe to reveal the mark of Death Eater. He noticed the Aurors tightened their grips on their wands. At Dumbledore's nod of agreement, the head Auror administered the Veritaserum.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Peter Pettigrew," the rat replied, sweat rolling down his brow.

"Did you fake your death?" The Auror asked.

"Yes," Pettigrew said.

"Why?" Cornelius Fudge demanded. His face was slowly turning purple from rage.

"To hide," Pettigrew said quickly. "From Sirius Black."

Snape sneered. He knew that the rat was doing his best to talk around the truth. That was the problem with open-ended questions such as Fudge's. There were always ways to skirt around an answer.

"Were you the Secret Keeper for James and Lily Potter?" he asked, deciding to take over the interrogation. The head Auror stepped forward but Dumbledore waved him away. Like always, Albus Dumbledore would vouch for Severus Snape.

"Yes," Pettigrew admitted. The Aurors glanced at each other in surprise. They had been unaware of the change in Secret Keepers.

"Did you betray James and Lily Potter to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that night?" Severus demanded.

"Yes!" Pettigrew wailed. "I gave him their location!"

"Did you kill those muggles and blame their deaths on Sirius Black?" Snape demanded.

"Yes!" Pettigrew whimpered, tugging at his bonds. "It was perfect. Black went to Azkaban for killing those muggles and for betraying Lily and James! The plan went perfectly!"

The black dog growled. A female Auror stepped away from it with a nervous look. Snape glared at the mutt.

"How did you fake your death?" he asked.

"I cut off my finger and transformed," Pettigrew said, shivering in fear as he stared into Snape's black eyes.

"Are you an unregistered Animagus?" Snape asked.

"Yes!" Pettigrew cried. Dumbledore placed a hand on Snape's shoulder, silently signaling for the man to stop. With great reluctance, Severus stepped away.

"The Veritaserum will wear off soon," Snape informed the Aurors. "I would question him quickly."

"We'll take him to the Ministry," the head Auror decided. "Where he'll be questioned properly and be put on trial."

"I'll accompany you," Albus Dumbledore said suddenly. "I've been meaning to visit the Ministry lately and this gives me the perfect opportunity. Cornelius, I suspect you'll be removing the dementors from Hogwarts tonight?"

Put on the spot, Fudge could only nod in agreement, though his face showed that he was reluctant to do so.

For once, Severus was glad of Dumbledore's meddling ways. With the man's presence, Pettigrew would be questioned and Sirius Black would be cleared without question. Pettigrew wouldn't be disposed of accidentally.

The rat was screaming and shaking as he was carted off to the Ministry of Magic by the Aurors. Dumbledore quickly followed after them.

"There is still the matter of Sirius Black," Fudge informed Professor McGonagall. She traded looks with Professor Snape. Then, Professor McGonagall glanced down at the black dog that was lying on the floor.

"He was James' best friend," she said. "I believe, especially with Pettigrew's revelations, that he is innocent. It would be best to declare him innocent and announce that in the papers as soon as possible."

Cornelius Fudge sputtered in outrage and shock.

"But Minerva," he protested. "There's still the matter of how he escaped from Azkaban!" Professor McGonagall gave him a stern look.

"He didn't perform the crimes he was convicted of," she informed the Minister of Magic. "He shouldn't have gone there in the first place. However, I understand that it was wartime and mistakes were made. But, if you should send him back, I think the Daily Prophet would be eager to know that the Minister of Magic placed two innocent people in Azkaban during the past two years. It would call into question your…effectiveness."

Fudge continued to sputter. When he regained some form of control, he stormed out of the office. Professor McGonagall glanced down at the black dog, who had begun to pant happily.

"What are you going to do with him?" she asked Snape, who scowled at the dog.

"Lock him in Lupin's office for the time being," he replied. "I suppose it would be too cruel to put him down. Besides, Lupin likes mutts and he'd appreciate the present. I've heard that rat-catching dogs are hard to find nowadays. "

Sirius gave a warning growl. Professor McGonagall smiled.

"Careful Severus," she said. "Some might start thinking that you care."

Severus scoffed at the notion.

"Hardly," he said, before leaving the office. "I'm going to bed. Have someone else cover my patrols for me."

Minerva McGonagall smiled. Severus tried his best to ignore the black dog trailing after him.

"No," he said as they reached his quarters. "You're not staying with me. Go find somewhere else to sleep."

He shut the door to his personal quarters before Sirius could sneak in. The black dog gave an angry bark before padding down the halls. He would stand guard outside the Slytherin common room then.

The next morning Severus went to breakfast early, wondering what he would find in the Daily Prophet. Dumbledore had fire-called him when he had returned from the Ministry, hours after Severus had fallen asleep. The Potions professor hadn't been thrilled to be woken up and had made his displeasure known through his acidic comments.

Dumbledore had relayed to Severus that the questioning had gone smoothly and that Pettigrew had been transferred to Azkaban as he had left the Ministry. Dumbledore hadn't mentioned if Pettigrew would remain at Azkaban for the rest of his life or if he would be on the receiving end of the Dementor's Kiss. Snape didn't particularly care what happened to the rat. Just as long as he was being punished…

Dumbledore had also informed Severus that Sirius Black had received a full pardon from the Ministry of Magic, along with possible monetary compensation. The mutt was free.

Severus hadn't been overly thrilled at the news of Black being declared innocent. He had worked carefully and determinedly to see that Harry had been placed with the Davises and that everything had been done legally. He didn't want Black interfering with the family he had attempted to give Harry. Sirius Black may have been Harry's godfather—something Snape had only agreed to after hours of arguing—but that didn't mean the man could mess with Severus's hard work.

Harry had woken early that morning in hopes that he could talk to Professor Snape before classes began. Unfortunately the man hadn't been in his office or in his quarters. The dejected boy made his way to breakfast. He had wanted to talk to someone about Pettigrew because with every moment that he waited, the larger the chances were that he could slip away.

The Great Hall was louder than it normally was at breakfast. The students had bunched up in groups, talking loudly. Every single group had a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, approaching his yearmates. Pansy practically shoved the Daily Prophet in his face.

"Read it!" she said. Harry read the headline.

**Black Innocent—Pettigrew alive!**

His heart thudded painfully against his chest. Harry continued to read.

_Late last night, Aurors and the Minister of Magic were called to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where Peter Pettigrew—long presumed to have been killed by the notorious Sirius Black—was being held for questioning._

_After hours of intensive questioning, Pettigrew admitted to committing the crimes Sirius Black had been accused of. Since the discovery of this information, Black has been cleared of his crimes and the Minister of Magic apologized publicly for the indiscretions early this morning. Pettigrew was transferred to Azkaban, where he awaits the Dementor's Kiss._

_Black has yet to be located and asked to comment but one hopes that with these new revelations, he will return to the wizarding public._

_To learn how Pettigrew evaded authorities for so long, turn to page 3_

_To learn about the crimes Black had been accused of, turn to page 5_

Harry flipped to page 3. He scanned the article until his eyes landed on the words "Unregistered Animagi". He had thought so.

With the news that Pettigrew had been apprehended easing his mind, Harry returned the Daily Prophet back to Pansy.

"Eventful night for the professors, then," he said. Pansy nodded.

"What do you think of it, Potter?" Draco asked. Harry raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Black  _is_  your godfather and Pettigrew betrayed your parents," Draco clarified.

Harry grimaced.

"I'm glad they got the right man finally," he said vaguely. Tracey gave Harry a nervous look.

"You're still coming home with me this summer, aren't you?" she asked. Harry nodded.

"I wouldn't go stay with Black," he assured her. "He may be my godfather but I've never met him. Besides, your parents are amazing."

Tracey blushed at the compliment to her family.

"Good," she said. "Because I'd have to hurt you if you backed out of your plans now."

Harry rolled his eyes and glanced around the Great Hall as he filled his plate. All the professors were present, talking quietly. Professor Snape sat in his normal spot, reading the Daily Prophet with an indiscernible look on his face. Professor Lupin sat on the other end of the table, looking more exhausted than normal. A large black form lay at his feet.

Green eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what the black shape was. Then they widened as Harry realized it was the black dog he had seen on his various Hogsmeade trips. Had it been Professor Lupin's dog all along?

Sirius stretched out on the cold stone floor as he watched the happenings in the Great Hall. He had picked up from the conversations he could overhear that he had officially been declared innocent and free. Good. Twelve years late but it was better than being back in Azkaban.

Sirius's canine eyes landed on Harry Potter, who was eating his breakfast. He panted happily and began to fidget. He really wanted to talk to the boy but he had promised Dumbledore earlier in the morning that he wouldn't try and contact the boy until exams were finished. In the meantime, he was staying in Lupin's quarters and wandering the school halls in his dog form.

Sirius's eyes traveled to Severus Snape. His lips lifted up and he growled silently at the thought of the man. He knew that he should also talk to the man about contacting Harry, but that didn't mean he wanted to. He wasn't looking forward to that particular conversation but he knew that it had to happen.

Two days later, Snape glared at the large black dog that had entered his office.

"What do you want, Black?" he snapped, grading a paper. It was already filled with angry red ink. When he looked up again, Sirius had changed into his human form.

"To talk about Harry," Sirius said. Severus's quill stilled for a second before resuming its work.

"What about the boy?" he demanded.

"I want to assume guardianship over him," Sirius said. "I'm free now, and his godfather. I can legally do so."

"And like always, you want to do the worst thing possible for the boy," Severus said coolly.

"How would it be a bad thing?" Sirius demanded. Severus sighed and set aside his quill.

"He's been taken away from his first family and house," he said, folding his hands. "He is only just getting used to having the Davis family as his guardians. He doesn't need any more drastic changes in his life. He's only thirteen years old."

"Why was he taken away from the Dursleys?" Sirius asked. "I'm happy that he isn't anywhere near those muggles but why—"

"Why was he there in the first place? Or why was it necessary for him to leave?" Severus asked, anticipating the questions.

"Both," Sirius said with a frown.

"Dumbledore thought it would be beneficial to have the boy living with blood family," Severus said with a frown. "He put wards around the house to protect the boy from the Dark Lord and his followers. The wards were dependent that he stay with those who shared the blood in his veins."

Sirius growled under his breath. Blood wards. He hated such types of magic. They were tricky things to work with and around.

"Then how did the Davis family gain guardianship?" he asked as the thought occurred to him. Severus's black eyes narrowed it.

"I took care of that when Dumbledore had to vacate the school last year for a few weeks," he replied stiffly. "I believe that he is still unaware of the change in guardians for Harry Potter."

"And the blood wards?" Sirius asked sharply. "Don't tell me that he goes back to the Dursleys just for the sake of blood wards."

Severus shook his head.

"I'm insulted that you would believe that I would allow that to happen," he said. "I've taken care of that as well."

"What about in a few years?" Sirius wanted to know. "If I would apply for guardianship then?"

"It would be very foolish of you, but I would expect nothing less," Severus replied. "Even if you applied for guardianship now, Harry could turn seventeen before you were legally declared his guardian. You know how slow the Ministry of Magic is about such matters."

Sirius growled. The Potions professor had a point.

"I still want to be around him," he said petulantly. "He's my godson. It's what James would have wanted."

Severus stiffened at the mention of James Potter. Sirius knew that he had hit a nerve but didn't apologize. He was being civil for the time being but he still didn't like Severus Snape.

"Talk to the Davis family then," Professor Snape replied. "But I would advise you to leave Harry alone until you've cleared it with them."

Sirius scowled at the assumption that he would do otherwise.

"Fine," he said.

Severus gestured for Sirius to leave but Black had one more thing to talk about.

"I want your promise that you won't try and keep Harry away from me if the Davises agree to letting me see him," Sirius said. Severus gave a loud irritated sigh.

"Why do you think I would do something like that?" he asked with a glare. Sirius returned the glare.

"Because I know you," he said simply. "Do I have your promise?"

"As long as you aren't trying to harm the boy, I won't interfere in your relationship," Severus said. "Now get out of my office. You're making it smell like wet dog."

Sirius scowled but left the office. Before he did, he had one last comment.

"Stop calling Harry 'the boy'," he told the dark-haired man. "I know he's your son, so either call him that or just call him Harry."

Severus scowled as Black left his office. Once the man was out of sight, he tossed an empty vial against the wall, frustrated with the whole situation. He had dreamed of becoming a father once but now…This wasn't how he imagined fatherhood turning out to be.


	25. Year 3: Part 9

The day after Black's innocence was announced, Harry made his way down to Hagrid's hut. His yearmates were busy packing their things since the Hogwarts Express would be leaving the next morning.

Already it had an eventful day. Professor Dumbledore had announced Professor Lupin's resignation at breakfast, citing health reasons as the reason for leaving his position. The announcement had been met with outrage and disappointment from most of the students. However, Harry hadn't been surprised. Hermione had filled him in on the events that had occurred leading to Pettigrew's capture. By now he was well aware of Lupin's werewolf nature, though he had kept the information from his housemates. It was better for Lupin to leave on his own terms instead of being sacked for something he couldn't control.

Harry knocked on the door. After a minute, Hagrid opened the door. With a practiced ease, Harry avoided Fang's enthusiastic and slobbering greetings.

"How are you, Hagrid?" Harry asked, looking up at the man. Hagrid looked better than he expected. There was no tankard of alcohol in sight and Hagrid looked almost cheerful…

Harry missed Hagrid's response but nodded when he heard Hagrid ask, "Ready to head back to London tomorrow?"

"More or less," he said. "Hagrid, about Buckbeak…"

Harry had hoped that the hippogriff would have escaped execution but when he had looked on his map the next day, the hippogriff was nowhere to be found on the school grounds.

"Miracle, ain't it?" Hagrid said, grinning brightly. Harry gave him a curious look.

"A miracle?" he asked. How was being executed a miracle?

"Buckbeak tugged himself free!" Hagrid announced. "He flew off as the executioner came down!"

Harry's jaw dropped open in surprise.

"Buckbeak's still alive?" he asked. Hagrid nodded happily.

"I'm glad he escaped," he said. "Really, I am. But he don't know how ter hunt or how ter fend fer himself."

"He'll be fine," Harry assured the man, trying not to grin. Buckbeak was alive. His year could end on a happy note.

After a cup of tea—a very large cup—Harry left Hagrid's hut. His eyes landed on the Whomping Willow. According to Hermione, Pettigrew's capture had taken place in a tunnel underneath the Whomping Willow.

A dark-haired man stood in front of the tree, within hitting distance of its branches. Harry rushed over to warn him of the danger. He was a few meters away when the man turned to face him.

Harry stopped in his tracks. It was Sirius Black.

The thirteen year old glanced back at the castle as discretely as possible. He had hoped there was a way he could quickly sneak back into the castle but Sirius Black had already noticed him.

"Harry?" the man asked. Harry gave him a wary nod. He knew Black was innocent but he still didn't know the man.

"Do you know who I am?" Black asked. Harry gave a hesitant nod.

"Sirius Black," he replied. "I think everyone knows who you are. What are you doing here at Hogwarts?"

"Staying with a friend," Black replied vaguely. "I don't know if you know, but I am also your godfather."

Harry nodded again.

"I know," he said. Black looked surprised that Harry knew that bit of information.

"Can we talk?" the man asked. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"We already are," he pointed out. Black grimaced as he realized that.

"Somewhere more comfortable?" he asked. Harry crossed his arms.

"I'm fine here," he said. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I know I haven't been the best of godfathers," Black said with a heavy sigh. "With being in Azkaban and everything. However, I'd like to get to know you. You are my godson, after all."

Harry frowned.

"You won't try and take me away from the Davises, will you?" he asked. Black shook his head.

"No," he assured the boy. "I just want to get to know you and maybe visit once or twice. Like an uncle."

Harry frowned at that statement and Black winced, remembering that the thirteen-year-old probably didn't have fond memories of uncles.

"I could tell you stories about your parents," Sirius offered quickly. "We went to school together. I doubt that others have told you about your parents."

It was a tempting offer. Harry would love to hear more about his parents but only if they were the right parents.

"Professor Snape has agreed to it," Sirius informed the boy, noticing how he was hesitating about answering. "And you can tell me all about Slytherin house. I had a younger brother who was a Slytherin."

"All right," Harry agreed. "Do the Davises know?"

Sirius nodded and pulled a letter out of his robe pocket.

"I wrote them before talking to you," Sirius said, handing it to Harry. "I thought it was for the best."

That made Harry happy. He didn't have to worry about offending the Davis family then. He merely glanced at the letter before returning it to Black.

"So how about it?" Sirius asked. "We'll trade letters during the summer and maybe talk some more now?"

"I have to pack," Harry said quickly. At Sirius's fallen expression, he quickly continued. "But I'll write letters," he agreed. The man's face brightened a bit. Harry left before things could become even more awkward.

Harry wasn't sure how to feel. He was happy that he had a godfather, one that wanted to get to know him better. However, he was happy with the Davis family. He had resolved earlier in term to go home with Tracey next Christmas, something he hadn't told the girl. He wanted it to be a surprise. He was also unsure of how much Sirius knew. Did the man know that Professor Snape was Harry's father? Or did he still think that Harry's father was James Potter?

It was a very confusing situation. Had Harry still been living with the Dursleys, he would be ecstatic to discover that he had a godfather. But with his current family life, he was never quite sure how to feel.

For the time being, Harry put it out of his mind. He had to finish packing before dinner.

There was one last Hogsmeade trip before the students went home. With the dementors gone, Harry gladly went with his friends, enjoying the nice weather and being able to walk around the town without needing a cloak.

The difference in the town was obvious without the threat of Sirius Black looming over them and with the dementors gone. All of the locals were more relaxed and smiling whenever Harry and the others passed them.

Harry could understand. With the dementors gone, his mood was lighter than it had been all year. His heart felt freer and there was no longer a cloud of misery hanging over him.

Many of the professors were celebrating the end of term in Hogsmeade as well. Hagrid was singing loudly in the Three Broomsticks and telling everyone who would listen about his brave Buckbeak, who had escaped certain death. Draco had only listened for a few minutes before leaving the pub with a sour expression on his face.

For the train ride home, Harry bought a bag of sweets from Honeydukes. It would be a while before he could purchase them again, so he made certain to buy enough to last him for the summer.

The morning Harry was to board the train, he ran into Professor Lupin one last time.

"Have a good summer, Harry," the man said quietly. Harry nodded.

"Professor, why are you resigning?" he asked. Remus Lupin sighed.

"There are things that I have recently discovered that I need to come to terms to. I also realized a few nights ago that I could have easily put some students in danger," he explained. "This year has also taken a toll on my health. People of my sort don't deal well with stress and teaching is more stressful than I imagined. There truly are some health reasons that contributed to my resignation."

Harry nodded. He understood.

"I hope to see you sometime in the next few years," Lupin said. "Sirius Black will be staying with me for the summer and I imagine for some time afterwards. We were friends back when we went to Hogwarts as students."

"I know," Harry said.

"Safe trip home," Remus Lupin said before leaving. Harry watched him go before walking away himself. He wanted to talk to his father before he left and he didn't have long now. The train left at eleven o'clock and it was currently half past nine.

Severus Snape was in his office, making sure that he had left nothing behind. He heard Harry approach before he saw him enter the room.

"Come in," he said. Harry obeyed, shutting the door behind him.

"Are we doing things the same way we did last summer?" he asked his father, who nodded.

"There is only one small difference," he said. "You will be staying with me for three days, compared to the two weeks last summer."

"But I want to stay longer," Harry said petulantly. Severus sighed. He had expected a reaction like this.

"I have to travel this summer," he informed his son.

"For what?" Harry asked. Severus gave a dry smile.

"There are many special things happening this summer. Next year, Hogwarts will be hosting a special event and I have to work with the Ministry and other countries to ensure that it goes on without any problems. There are certain items that need to be acquired."

Harry pouted slightly but nodded. He would enjoy his time with his father then.

"Besides, I figured you would want to get to know your godfather." Try as he might, Severus couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Harry made a face.

"A godfather is all very well," he said. "But I would rather spend time with my father."

Severus allowed a soft smile to cross his lips.

"You won't always think that," he informed his son. "Most teenagers enter a phase when they hate their parents."

"Well, I might not be most teenagers," Harry protested.

"We'll see in a few years," Severus replied. "Are you done packing?"

Harry nodded.

"I finished last night," he said.

"Good," Professor Snape replied, glancing around his office. "How did you do on exams?"

"I passed them all," Harry said. "Even Divination."

"Are you going to continue with the subject?" Severus asked. Harry hesitated.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I don't enjoy the class but I don't want to drop it either."

"Why don't you want to drop it?" Severus asked.

"Because I don't want to feel like a failure," Harry mumbled.

"A failure or a quitter?" The Slytherin Head of House asked.

"Is there a difference?" Harry asked.

"It depends on who you ask," his father replied.

"What do you think I should do?" Harry asked.

"Think on it over the summer," Severus recommended. "Once you are away from the school and the class, you might change your mind. Talk with the Davis family. They would be able to give you better advice than I would."

"But you're the Head of House," Harry pointed out.

"And I can only give suggestions from a professor's perspective," Severus said. "I never took Divination as a student and I am aware that Tracey's father did. He would be able to offer more insight."

Harry gave a reluctant nod. Severus cast a time spell and frowned at the time.

"Go collect your things," he suggested. "The train will be leaving soon."

"I'll see you at the station," Harry said quietly before leaving.

The train ride home was cheerful. Exploding Snap games were scattered around the compartment, along with one or two games of Gobstones. Harry somehow found himself facing Draco Malfoy in a game of Exploding Snap. He hadn't quite forgiven the boy for trying to execute Buckbeak and fire Hagrid but he couldn't stay truly mad at Draco. He knew that there was a lot the blond had to learn about the world yet

By the time evening came around, Harry and Severus had reached the apartment. The pair had had some difficulties getting out of King's Cross station without being noticed by the other wizarding families. Harry still didn't completely understand why there was such a need for secrecy, but he didn't ask questions. He knew his father had his reasons.

Harry had been dismayed to find out that one of his three days with his father had been that day. It wasn't even a full day he got to spend with the man. But that was nothing compared to how upset he had been when he found out that on the third day, he would be picked up in the morning. He was only going to get one full day with Severus.

"It's not fair!" Harry had protested loudly. His father had sighed as he tried to explain for the third time that night.

"It may not seem that way but it's for the best. The Davis's are your legal guardians now. Last summer you stayed with me for so long because it was still a relatively new situation and they understood that you might have felt more comfortable with someone you were around constantly throughout the year. Now there's no such excuse. Besides, it's best that you join them as soon as possible."

Harry frowned and grumbled something under his breath but stopped complaining. He didn't want to end the night with a fight. He wanted to enjoy his limited time with his father as much as possible, especially since he now knew that he had less time than he had originally thought.

Severus Snape had thought to take Harry to a local football match but he was forced to change his plans in the middle of the night when he woke up to screams. It was a sound he had hoped to never wake up to again.

Harry was thrashing in his transfigured bed, sweat dripping down his face. The sheets and blankets were tangled around his legs. When the Potions Master had finally succeeded in waking the boy up, he had been forced to summon a waste bin just seconds before Harry had begun to retch.

"A nightmare?" he asked. Harry gave a weak nod and grimaced at the disgusting taste in his mouth.

"Water?" he asked. His father stood up and headed toward the kitchen. After a few seconds of deliberation, Harry followed. The next few minutes were spent in silence. Harry was thankful that his father wasn't pressing for information. The boy rubbed his scar absent-mindedly, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the other person occupying the kitchen.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Severus asked after Harry had finished his glass of water. The boy shook his head and winced. He hadn't realized he was getting a headache.

"I don't remember what the nightmare was about," Harry said quietly. "Just that it was a bad one. I'm not sure I want to remember, honestly."

"Because it made you sick?" Harry nodded.

"Are you in any pain right now?"

Harry shook his head again.

"Just a small headache," he explained. "It'll be better in a few hours."

"You don't want a potion?" Severus was slightly surprised. Most children around Harry's age would want something to take away their headache or something to help them sleep after such a nightmare.

"I'll be fine. I'm used to nightmares. I used to get them all the time at the Dursley's," Harry admitted. His father frowned at the admission but before he could say anything, Harry was setting his glass in the sink and returning back to bed. Severus remained in the kitchen, mulling over the new information he had received.

The man hoped that the nightmare had nothing to do with Voldemort but after seeing Harry rub his scar, he couldn't be sure. Reluctantly, Severus rolled up his sleeve and checked the Dark Mark on his arm. It looked the same as it always had.

After being awakened abruptly during the night, morning came too soon for father and son. Severus was exhausted, having been kept awake by his thoughts, and Harry was still in pain. Sleeping hadn't helped his headache go away. In fact, it seemed to be worse.

It was obvious that neither of them would be able to go to the football match. Instead, Severus changed his plans so that they would remain at home all day, just relaxing. He arranged for their meals to be delivered that day so that they wouldn't be forced to leave the comfort of the small apartment.

Harry was quite happy with this plan; especially after a glance outside revealed that it was raining. The day passed quickly enough for both males. Despite wanting to spend as much time as possible with his father, Harry ended up napping most of the afternoon. His headache had progressed into a migraine and once his father realized how bad the pain was, he practically had to force a pain relief potion down Harry's throat. The boy was reluctant and stubborn; too stubborn for his own good. It was obvious whom he had gotten that trait from.

Shortly after breakfast the next day, Mr. Davis picked up Harry from the apartment. Only a few words were exchanged before Harry and Mr. Davis were on their way.

"We're picking up Tracey on the way back," Mr. Davis informed Harry. "She ended up staying with the Greengrass family last night. An impromptu sleep-over, apparently."

Harry nodded. Tracey would be busy talking about the sleepover and probably wouldn't think to ask about his night. He felt a sense of relief over that.

"We received a letter yesterday," Mr. Davis continued. "From Sirius Black."

Harry couldn't help it. He tensed merely upon hearing the man's name."

"What does he want?" he asked, trying not to sound nervous. Although he knew that Sirius Black would probably not challenge the Davis family's guardianship over him, he couldn't help but worry.

"It was addressed to you, so we didn't read it," Mr. Davis said. He pulled a piece of parchment out of his briefcase pocket. Mr. Davis was dressed as a Muggle businessman for the day, in a black suit with a matching briefcase.

Harry took the letter nervously. He almost wished that Mr. and Mrs. Davis had gone ahead and read the letter. Then he wouldn't have to worry about what it said.

The letter was simple enough.

_Harry,_

_I know you promised that you would write letters over the summer, but I decided to send the first one. I want you to know that I'm willing to answer any questions that you may have, no matter what they may be about. I know this may be a bit too early, but what would you think of meeting me some time this summer? You can bring your family with, if you want. We could see a Muggle movie or something._

_Let me know,_

_Sirius Black_

Harry glanced up at Zachariah Davis.

"He wants to write throughout the summer," he explained. "He also wants to meet up sometime this summer."

Zach gave a tiny frown.

"It's up to you in the end," he told Harry. "It's your choice about how much contact you want to have with the man. However, Catherine and I only request that we be with you whenever you meet him, should you wish that. I'm sure Professor Snape has stressed that this is a delicate situation that we're finding ourselves in."

"I know," Harry said. Nobody had had to say anything for Harry to know that this would be a trying situation. He tucked the letter in his pocket. He would ask Tracey about it later for a second opinion.

As expected, Tracey was bubbly and full of stories about her night. She had hugged Harry immediately upon seeing him but after that, she barely looked at him as she relayed her stories about her first sleepover. Apparently the ones at Hogwarts didn't count.

Harry had to chuckle at that.

After being dropped off at home, Zachariah Davis was called into work. Just minutes after he left, Tracey glanced at Harry.

"So," she said, sitting in front of the boy.

"So what?" Harry asked.

"How was your day yesterday? You took off pretty quickly at the station. Why did you stay with Professor Snape?"

Harry shrugged.

"I spent most of the day sleeping," he replied. "Professor Snape just wanted to keep an eye on me for a while and to see if Sirius Black would challenge your parents for custody."

"Is he going to?" The mention of Sirius Black distracted Tracey from her previous questions. Harry shook his head.

"At least not now," he muttered.

"He better not ever!" Tracey announced. "You've already gone through too much."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that. What was he supposed to say? He knew that he had gone through a lot for his age. It didn't take a genius to see that.

"He wants to meet up with me this summer," Harry finally said. Tracey's eyes widened.

"Are you seriously considering it?" she asked. "Harry, he's dangerous!"

"He didn't actually murder all those people," Harry reminded her. "That was someone else."

"That doesn't matter!" Tracey protested. "He was an Auror, remember? A dark wizard catcher! My dad said that during the last war, Aurors were trained to kill known dark wizards and witches on sight!"

"That doesn't mean anything," Harry said. "You don't know that for sure."

"He also spent twelve years in Azkaban," Tracey pointed out. "You've dealt with dementors. Twelve years in a place like that changes people. No one knows what he could be like now."

Harry glared at Tracey. He felt like she was being irrational. Her words were stirring up a part of him that he sometimes forgot he had—his stubborn side. Tracey may have been trying to convince him to stay away from Sirius Black but they were making Harry only more determined to get to know his godfather.

"Well, then I'll just have to find out," he said.


	26. Year 4: Part 1

Harry rubbed his hands over his face, resisting the urge to yawn. It was quite early in the day—at least for a student used to sleeping in during the summer—and he was wishing that he hadn't set the meeting time so early. However, Tracey's father had to go into work and had been able to drop Harry off on the way. Mrs. Davis would be along when she and Tracey were finished shopping. Harry hadn't been fond of the idea, so he had written to Sirius, asking if they could meet up.

This wasn't the first time he had seen his godfather since the summer had began but it was the first time he was meeting his godfather alone. Before today, Harry and Sirius had been exchanging letters every few days and had been meeting up every other week, under the Davis's supervision.

Now it seemed that Mr. and Mrs. Davis were comfortable leaving Harry and Sirius alone.

"Harry!"

The green-eyed teen glanced up and spotted Sirius coming towards him. He gave an awkward wave. A few of the patrons in the small café glared at the man for disrupting the quiet, but Sirius Black didn't seem to notice.

"You're early," Sirius said, sitting down across the table.

"Zach brought me since it's on his way to work," Harry explained. "You're on time surprisingly."

Sirius pouted, making Harry laugh.

"It was one time," the man protested. "And you can't still be blaming me for that. The store was extremely hard to find."

"Not for anyone else," Harry pointed out. "The store had a huge sign in front of it with its name on it."

The majority of the pair's meet-ups had taken place in the muggle world. After a year of being featured on wanted posters, Sirius was easily recognized in the wizarding world. Despite the public declaration of his innocence, there was a large majority of people that were still suspicious of his actions and refused to treat him like any other person. Harry was recognizable as well, due to his status as The-Boy-Who-Lived. After one uncomfortable meeting at The Leaky Cauldron, both preferred meeting in the muggle world, where they could remain anonymous.

"How long do I have to spend with you?" Sirius asked, debating whether or not they should order food.

"Until one," Harry replied. "But I'm sure Catherine will let you join us after that."

"What are your plans?" Sirius asked. Harry shrugged.

"Buying school stuff in Diagon Alley," he said. "Our lists came yesterday."

"Anything interesting on it?"

Another shrug. "Same old thing, basically," Harry said, stifling another yawn. "Mostly books. But we need dress robes this year for some reason."

"Dress robes? For what?" Sirius was baffled by the requirement of dress robes on the list. He hadn't needed to get any for school until seventh year. He'd had some for family events years before that but Hogwarts hadn't required them for students below seventh year.

Harry shrugged again.

"Who knows," he said. "Are we eating here? Or did you have something else planned?"

As the pair ordered food, they fell into easy conversation. It was no longer the awkward, stilted conversations that they had had the first times they had met. Harry had soon discovered that he could easily relate to his godfather on most subjects, except for the subject of his parents. Harry still hadn't figured out if Sirius knew the truth or if he was unaware about Harry's true parentage, though the boy was going to guess the latter.

After lunch, the pair decided to go see a movie to kill some time. Neither of them were into shopping, which took up most of the neighborhood they were in. There were still a few hours left before they had to go meet Catherine and Tracey but neither of them wanted to wander too far from the neighborhood where the Leaky Cauldron was located.

The good thing about movies was that they provided opportunities for conversation afterwards. Harry and Sirius sat in a nearby park, chatting when one o'clock rolled around. When Catherine and Tracey showed up, Harry and Sirius were in an intense debate about animation versus live action.

Harry fully expected Sirius to leave when Catherine and Tracey picked him up. Sirius didn't seem interested in shopping and that was the only thing they had planned for the afternoon. His godfather had made no mention of staying in the past few hours.

However, Sirius needed to talk to Catherine Davis about something regarding the entire family. He had considered asking Harry first but he had a feeling the boy wouldn't agree to the idea until his foster parents had given permission.

Harry and Tracey wandered ahead of the two adults, Tracey practically dragging Harry as she stared into all the different muggle shops. Harry didn't see the appeal of the shops, but he had been raised in the muggle world. What was normal for him was something fascinating in Tracey's eyes.

"Have you and your husband made any plans for the Quidditch World Cup?" Sirius asked Harry's foster mother as the two teenagers wandered out of hearing. Catherine shook her head.

"Zach wants to go but he's been having a hard time getting off of work. He also didn't know how interested Harry will be in it. You know he's not interested in Quidditch, right?"

Sirius nodded with a sigh. He had assumed that the boy would love Quidditch as much as other boys did and that had led to an awkward conversation. Sirius had finally given up on relating to Harry through that topic of conversation.

"He'll probably have friends there," he pointed out. "If Zach can get the time off, I'd like to invite your family to join me. The Ministry has given me box seat tickets and included some for a handful of other guests. They're still trying to compensate me for their wrongdoings." Sirius made a face as he gave the explanation. The lengths the Ministry of Magic was going to was really quite disgusting. The tickets were just the most recent attempt to make things right again.

Sirius imagined that the reason the Ministry was going to such lengths for him was because they wanted him to become an Auror again. Since the war ended, there were less wizards and witches interested in becoming Aurors and Sirius had been one of the best during the war.

It didn't matter. Sirius didn't want to be an Auror. Not after seeing how the Ministry would treat one of their own. Besides, he had Harry to think of now. There would have been a time when Sirius would be glad for the free hand-outs and having the Ministry eating out of the palm of his hand but not anymore. Azkaban had changed a lot of things for him.

Besides new textbooks and dress robes, Harry and Tracey already had the majority of school supplies on their list. The only thing Harry needed to get that Tracey didn't need were some new robes for school. Over the summer he had begun to outgrow his.

As they walked into Madam Malkin's, it became clear that they weren't the only Hogwarts students shopping for dress robes that day. There was a waiting line of six or seven other students in the store. There was only a Hufflepuff in their year waiting while the rest were fifth or sixth years. All of them except for Harry were girls.

"Have one of the store clerks figure out the lengths of the sleeves and hem first," Catherine said. "Then we can pick out dress robes."

Tracey looked excited at the thought. Her look of glee told Harry that they would be in Madam Malkin's for a  _very_  long time. He held back a groan.

The measurements didn't take very long, thankfully. Within minutes both Harry and Tracey were measured and directed to the right side of the store. To prevent trying on robes, Harry opted for getting his school robes first.

"It's not that bad," Sirius told him as Harry shot an unenthusiastic look at the selection of dress robes as he passed them. "Just pick something that's mostly one color and not black."

"What's wrong with black?" Harry wanted to know as he picked up five robes with a Slytherin crest on the chest. His school robes were black after all and that seemed to be the color of robes most adults wore. Black was simple and wearing it every day made things uncomplicated. Sirius shook his head with a smile.

"It's boring," he replied. "When you finally realize you'll be wearing black for the rest of your life, you'll start wearing other colors whenever you can." It was easy for Sirius to come up with some jokes about Severus Snape but he had a feeling that they wouldn't be well received by Harry. Harry rolled his eyes and passed his school robes over to Sirius before dragging his feet over to the selection of dress robes. It didn't escape his notice that the selection for boys was significantly smaller than the selection for girls.

Harry pulled out a few robes before putting them back almost immediately. He didn't like the looks of them. They were too bright or flashy for his tastes. One of them actually had glitter on it—glitter that was strewn all over the floor from where others had looked at it and tried it on. After a few minutes of scanning the rack, he pulled out a robe that was a plain forest green.

"I'm getting this," he decided.

"You have to try them on," Tracey called across the store. Harry shot her a glare. Sirius grinned. He knew that he shouldn't be enjoying Harry's pain but the boy was making it quite clear that he hated shopping for robes. Sirius wondered if that attitude extended to all shopping or to all clothes or if it was just robes.

"She's right, you know," he said. Harry sighed.

"But it's just clothes," he complained.

"I know," Sirius said. "But look at it this way. If you don't grow between this year and seventh year, you won't need to go shopping again."

Harry was torn. On one hand, he wanted to grow since he was already shorter than most of the boys in his year, but he wanted to do as little shopping as possible.

"Or I can show you a charm that will lengthen hems," Sirius said. A relieved look crossed Harry's face. If he kept the robes in a good enough condition, he could probably get away with wearing the same pair twice. He didn't plan on wearing dress robes for any other occasions than what was absolutely required.

"Do you have any idea why these are necessary for this year?" Harry asked as he slipped on the forest green robe over his muggle clothes. Sirius shook his head.

"Not a clue," he said. "If I find anything out, I'll let you know but you have to do the same."

Harry nodded. Satisfied with the forest green robe, he pulled it off and put the dress robes on top of the other robes.

"I'm done," he called to Tracey, who rolled her eyes. She wasn't very surprised that it had taken him all of five minutes to make a decision.

"Why don't you two go get school books," Catherine Davis suggested, looking at the pile of robes Tracey still had to try on. "We'll be a while."

Harry didn't even consider a different option. He passed his robes over to his foster mother and hightailed it out of the robe shop, Sirius trailing behind him.

As the pair walked toward Flourish and Blotts, they received some curious looks but there was less hostility than Sirius was used to. The ex-convict knew that there would always be some looks wherever he went but it looked like most wizards and witches would forget about him after some time. He wondered if it would be the same in the rest of the world or if it was just in England.

Harry stuck close to his godfather, feeling uncomfortable with the looks. He had never liked the attention and he was sure that would never change.

"Any plans for the rest of the summer?" Sirius asked Harry as they began to browse the bookstore. The teenager shrugged.

"Not really," he said. There was a fortnight left before he had to return to Hogwarts and Harry felt like he would spend most of the time lounging around. All of his summer homework was done. He knew there was the Quidditch World Cup coming up but he wasn't sure if he was interested in going. Harry still wasn't really interested in Quidditch, something that had disappointed his godfather when they had met for the first time during the summer. Since then, Harry had always changed the subject as soon as the word Quidditch was mentioned. It was always an awkward subject for him. Everyone expected Harry to love the sport, since he was a teenage wizard, but he couldn't really see the appeal. He was sure part of the reason was because he was still scared of flying but he had also never really been into sports before then.

Everyone always said it was odd that a boy wasn't into sports. Before, Harry had shrugged those comments off but recently it was getting harder to do so.

By the time Harry had purchased his books, Tracey and her mother still weren't done. Instead of returning to Madam Malkin's, Sirius led Harry to Fortescue's.

"What kind of ice cream do you want?" he asked. Harry's eyes lit up.

"Surprise me," he said, suspecting that his godfather would come up with the most interesting (and possibly disgusting) combination possible. Sirius grinned and left to order while Harry went to find a table outside. Fortescue's was conveniently placed so they could see if Tracey and Catherine left Madam Malkin's while they were eating.

When Sirius came back, he was carrying the largest bowl of ice cream that Harry had ever seen. There must have been more than thirty flavors in the bowl. Harry's eyes widened. Were just the two of them supposed to be able to finish that?

"Every single flavor and topping," Sirius announced proudly. "Complete with a non-melting charm around the ice cream, so there's no rush to eat it before it melts."

Harry still didn't think that just he and Sirius would be able to eat the entire thing by themselves but then he spotted the extra spoons in his godfather's hand. He nearly sighed in relief.

As Sirius sat down, Harry grabbed a spoon and eagerly began to dig in. Fortescue's ice cream had quickly become one of his favorite summer treats.

"What will you do when I go back to school?" Harry asked his godfather after a few minutes. Sirius shrugged.

"Travel, I think. I'll be back for holidays but unless something interesting is going to happen here in England—"

"Doubtful," Harry interrupted and Sirius grinned before continuing.

"I'll go search for my own adventure. I'll be back in a heartbeat if you need me, though." Sirius wanted to make sure Harry knew that he wasn't just going to abandon his godson. "Your father wouldn't take well to me leaving you without you being able to contact me."

There was an awkward silence between the two before Harry cleared his throat and looked to the side.

"So when are you leaving?" Harry asked. Sirius stared at the teenager, wondering how much the boy knew. Was Harry aware of the circumstances of his birth? Snape hadn't really said how much the boy knew or if he even planned on telling the whole story to the boy.

Maybe Sirius would tell Harry once he came of age, if he didn't find out before then. It was important, after all, and Harry deserved to know the truth. He couldn't live a lie for a life.

"After you leave for Hogwarts," he replied as Harry looked at him expectantly. "I was thinking that we could spend some time together in the few days before you go back."

"Doing what?" Harry asked.

"The Quidditch World Cup," a voice interrupted. Harry and Sirius turned to see Catherine and Tracey approaching them. Harry's foster father was ahead of them and was the one that had spoken. Tracey looked excited.

"What?" Harry asked, tilting his head. He hadn't heard anything about it and had assumed that the Davis family just wasn't going. Zach smiled.

"I got time off of work and Mr. Black has said that he has extra tickets, so Catherine and I were thinking that we could spend the last week of summer there. Interested?"

"Yes!" Tracey cried before Harry could say anything. The group laughed at her enthusiasm.

"It'll be so much fun," Tracey continued as her family sat down around the huge bowl of ice cream. "Everyone from our year is going to be there. We can't miss it!"

Harry shrugged. He didn't mind going if he got to see his friends. Just as long as he didn't have to get on a broom or pretend to be an expert on Quidditch.

"I think everyone in England is trying to go," Sirius muttered under his breath. That's why he had been so stunned and disgusted that the Ministry of Magic was willing to give him tickets for free. They could have easily sold those tickets for more money but instead they were still trying to get into Sirius's good graces.

Soon after the group parted ways. Neither the Davis parents nor Sirius had mentioned that the tickets Sirius had received were box seats. Through silent looks, they had decided to keep that as a surprise for the two children. The Quidditch World Cup being hosted in England was a once in a lifetime opportunity and they wanted to make sure it would be one of the best events ever.


	27. Year 4: Part 2

"Dad, when are we going?" Tracey asked eagerly. She hovered over the game of Gobstones Harry and Zach were playing. Her hovering made Harry nervous and made him miss the gobstone he was aiming at.

"Not for another hour," Zach replied calmly. "Be patient, we'll get there."

"There's people that have been there for two weeks already," Tracey said. "I don't understand why we couldn't have gone then."

"What would we have done for two weeks?" Zach asked his daughter. "Camp?"

"I don't think Tracey would be able to live in a tent for two weeks," Harry said with a grin. Just yesterday she had screamed when she saw a beetle in her room.

"I would have been fine," Tracey protested. "It would have been fun."

"For a day, but then you would have gotten bored. Besides, I couldn't have gotten the time off," Zach said. "And your mother isn't a fan of camping to begin with. It's amazing that I convinced her to come once she learned that we were sleeping in a tent."

He and Harry shared a mischievous look. Unbeknownst to Tracey and her mother, they had gone with Sirius to pick out a tent to stay in. Harry didn't know if they could call it a tent, since it was nothing like Muggle tents. Yes, the outside looked similar if one ignored the outrageous shade of purple it was, but the inside was completely different. Harry hadn't heard of any Muggle tents that came equipped with a fully stocked kitchen, four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a living area, and a chandelier.

And that was without any of the extras that could come with it. Harry could safely say that wizard camping was nothing like Muggle camping, even though he had never gone camping with the Dursleys.

"Why are you two looking at each other like that?" Tracey asked warily. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing," Harry and Zach said at the same time. One of Harry's gobstones spun around and squirted him in the face, causing him to sputter in disgust. Zach chuckled as he knocked the last gobstone out of the ring.

"You're getting better," he told Harry. "Maybe in a few years you'll be able to beat me."

"It'll happen eventually," Harry said. Tracey sighed loudly.

"Can we go yet?" she asked.

"In an hour," her father replied. "If you're so anxious for something to do, why don't you go get the deck of Exploding Snap and we'll play until it's time to go."

"How will we know when it's time to go?" Tracey asked.

"Sirius is bringing a Portkey," Harry said. "Whatever that is."

"We're going by Portkey?" Tracey asked. Zach nodded. Harry hesitated before asking his question. It had been on his mind ever since his godfather had mentioned it.

"What's a Portkey?"

"A means of traveling," Zach said. "They have to be Ministry approved but they come in useful if you're traveling with groups of people. The Ministry had to approve hundreds of Portkeys for the Quidditch World Cup."

The whole lead-up to the Quidditch World Cup had been crazy and busy, in Zach's opinion. Every department had been involved in the planning and execution of the event. Zach's department had been even busier because not only did they have to help with the Quidditch World Cup but they had also had to make plans for Hogwarts.

Speaking of which, he should probably mention something to Harry and Tracey about that. He suspected they would like the heads up. Most of Slytherin House would know before the school year began, since the majority of their parents worked in the Ministry of Magic. Zach couldn't have his children being the only ones in their House not knowing.

"Have you heard anything from your classmates about the upcoming school year?" he asked Harry and Tracey as Tracey began to deal out the cards for a game of Exploding Snap.

"Not really," Harry said.

"Pansy was just excited about getting her dress robes. She said something big had to be happening and that she went a step further. Apparently her dress robes are from France."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"The clothes in France are the same as the clothes here," he muttered. Tracey pretended not to hear him.

"Do you know what's happening this year?" Harry asked Zach. His foster father smiled.

"Yep," he said. "It's going to be an exciting year."

Harry frowned. He didn't know how much more excitement he could take. Second year and third year had been exciting enough. Was it too much to ask for a boring school year?

"What's going on?" Tracey demanded.

"The Triwizard Tournament," Zach said. Tracey's eyes widened as Harry's mouth dropped open. Zach chuckled.

"I assume from that expression you know what it is?" he asked. Harry could only nod. His mind was racing, trying to remember all that he had read about the tournament. Sirius had mentioned it once and Harry had gone back home and researched it. There hadn't been much on the tournament, just enough for Harry to know that it was dangerous and that people ended up dying.

"This year is going to be so much fun!" Tracey yelled, knocking over the cards, which exploded and made a singe mark on the carpet. Zach used a charm to hide the mark until he had a chance to replace the carpet. He didn't need Catherine seeing the mark and calling him out on it.

"So why do we need dress robes?" Harry asked. He really hoped the answer wasn't 'in case you have to go to a funeral'. If it was, he was going to burn his dress robes as soon as he got to Hogwarts.

"For the Yule Ball," Tracey said. "In the past, whenever there was a Triwizard Tournament, there would be a Yule Ball for all the students."

Harry let out a small sigh of relief. A ball he could deal with. Then the name hit him.

"Yule Ball? As in over Christmas?"

"Yep!" Tracey said. Already she was planning how she was going to do her hair and makeup. She had just started wearing makeup over the summer and couldn't wait to see if any of her friends had tips.

Zach noticed Harry starting to frown. He wasn't sure what had brought this sudden mood on but then he remembered Tracey mentioning that Harry was considering coming to the Davis home for Christmas for the first time.

"You're only allowed to go on one condition, though," Zach said quickly. Tracy's face fell.

"What is it?" she asked.

"That you come home for New Year's Eve," Zach stated. "Your mother and I won't owl mail your presents, so that's the only way you're going to get them."

"Don't you and Mom usually have that Ministry ball on New Year's Eve?" Tracey asked.

"Your mother doesn't want to go this year," Zach said.

"Why not?"

Zach shrugged. Catherine had only mentioned not wanting to go a few days ago, after she had come back from a shopping trip. He hadn't questioned why, just assuming that she was getting bored of doing the same thing year after year.

"Deal," he told his daughter and a new game of Exploding Snap started.

An hour later, the entire Davis family, Harry, and Sirius were standing around an old tin can.

"This is a Portkey?" Harry asked. "It doesn't look like anything special."

"Portkeys rarely do," Zach explained. "That way Muggles don't accidentally come across them and find out what they are."

"When are we leaving?" Tracey asked. She was getting tired of waiting to leave.

"Any time now," Sirius said. Just as he spoke, he could feel the Portkey activating.

Harry felt something like a hook behind his navel jerk forward and his feet leave the ground. He could hear a howl of wind and he figured if he opened his eyes, he would see the ground around him spinning quickly.

He didn't like this form of travel, he quickly decided. His opinion was further formed when his body slammed into the ground.

"Ow," Tracey groaned. She was on the ground beside Harry. The adults were still standing, though Harry's foster mother was vomiting in a nearby bush. Zach went to hover nervously by his wife.

"I'm fine," she reassured him once she was sure nothing more was going to come up.

"Five before sixteen hours," a voice called. "Right on time."

Harry sat up and looked around. Off to one side were a pair of older wizards, looking as if they had been waiting for their group to arrive.

"Evening," Mr. Davis greeted the pair as he passed off the Portkey to one of the wizards. It was quickly thrown in a box of similar items. They nodded to him.

"One of the last of the night," they told him. "The last group is arriving at seven. They don't start coming in again until four tomorrow morning. Then there's a steady stream until the game starts."

"You're not working the whole time, are you?" Zach asked. The pair shook their heads.

"Got tomorrow off. We start again the morning after the game, when everyone starts leaving."

"Where are we located?" Zach inquired. Tracey and Harry were beginning to stand up, rubbing their sore bodies.

"Second field. Ask for Mr. Payne. You'll be in the VIP section."

Harry glanced at Sirius in time to see the man roll his eyes before grinning. Mr. Davis thanked the wizards before hurrying the group out of the way. As they left the Portkeys, Harry glanced back just in time to see another group arrive. They had just as rough of a landing as he and Tracey had. Harry winced in sympathy for the group.

There was a small cottage between the first and second field. Mr. Payne ended up being a squib that had taken over for the weekend for the original manager of the campsite. He quickly directed them toward the VIP section, which was on the side of the field closest to the stadium.

When they finally reached the VIP section, Tracey's mouth dropped in astonishment. Harry blinked in amazement. Their tent looked tiny and insignificant compared to some of the ones that were already set up.

"Why do I have a feeling you were just messing around when you mentioned camping," Catherine muttered to her husband. Zach shrugged.

"You should know me better by now," he said. "I would never actually make you sleep on the ground."

Catherine rolled her eyes and smiled fondly.

"You just wanted to terrify Tracey, didn't you?" she asked, remembering all the camping stories had been telling her daughter for the past week, despite never actually have gone camping.

"Just a little bit," her husband replied, a smile creeping onto his face. "It was my fatherly duty."

"Sure it was," Catherine replied before heading to check out the tent. She stepped inside just before a banner rolled across the entrance reading  _THE COOLEST PLACE ON THE BLOCK_.

Zach rolled his eyes and followed his wife, ignoring Tracey and Harry's laughs.

"So why wouldn't I like camping again?" Tracey asked as she began to poke around the tent. "It doesn't seem that hard."

"This is wizard camping," Harry replied. "It's much easier than Muggle camping."

"I thought you'd never been," Tracey commented. Harry shrugged.

"I've seen pictures and heard stories," he said. "Somehow I don't think Muggles can get an oven and stove inside a tent and make it transportable."

Tracey didn't say anything more. Instead, she had discovered the bedroom she was going to claim as her own.

"Think you'll survive a few nights in here?" Sirius asked, coming up alongside Harry. He swung his arm over the boy's shoulder.

"Should be easy," Harry said with a grin. "So what are we going to do until the match starts?"

"Hang around," Sirius said. "We can tour the field tomorrow, when it's light out. I can guarantee you'll see things here that you'll never see anywhere else."

"Like what?" Harry asked. A mischievous look crept on to Sirius's face.

"Just wait until you see where all the die-hard Ireland fans are camping. That'll be a sight to see."

Everyone retired early that night, knowing the next day was going to be a long one. The match didn't start until the evening, but there were going to be vendors all over the place. Betting pools would be set up and some of the more intense fans would probably be trying to find where the team members were staying. There would no doubt be celebratory parties after the game and the adults had a feeling they knew where the biggest parties would be—the VIP section.

Harry didn't wake up the next morning until nine. Tracey was still sleeping when he made his way into the kitchen, which was empty. Harry stood there puzzled for a minute until he recognized the voices outside the tent. It sounded like they had visitors.

Harry quickly got dressed before he went outside to join his godfather and foster parents. He stepped out of the tent just in time to see a set of Ministry officials leaving.

"You're up early," Sirius commented when he spotted Harry. "Excited?"

Harry shrugged. He had come mostly for the experience, not the match itself.

The teenager looked around. It was still pretty quiet, with most of their neighbors still inside their tents. Zach and Catherine were trying to cook over the fire. It looked like some sort of egg dish to Harry, who grimaced. It looked unappetizing when it was being cooked over a fire.

Harry sat in an empty chair next to Sirius to wait for breakfast.

It was gradual at first. Harry didn't notice it until things were just starting to get out of control.

It started with a few Ministry officials coming up to the tent to greet Zach. Harry wasn't sure which department his foster father worked in but he seemed to be pretty well known.

Soon after introductions were made, the Ministry officials had gone on their way. Before they had left, they had given Harry and Sirius a few curious looks. After they had left, more people had come. Slowly the amount of people coming to the tent had increased and the less Zach and Catherine knew them.

It wasn't until there was a group that just came and stared at Harry that the boy figured out what was going on.

"They're coming to look at me, aren't they?" he asked when that group had left.

"No, they're coming to stare at me," Sirius replied. "Being an assumed mass murderer for thirteen years before being declared innocent makes me a pretty popular guy."

Harry didn't believe him. That may have been part of the reason people were coming by but he saw the looks that lingered on his scar.

"Sirius, why don't you take Harry and Tracey on a walk around the campsite? I'm sure they must be interested in seeing everything." Catherine said as her daughter emerged from the tent. "See if you can find anyplace selling food while you're at it." Breakfast had gone largely untouched between all the visitors.

Harry didn't need any other reason to say yes. He needed to move around. He was sick of feeling like a museum exhibit.

Walking around was certainly a culture shock for Harry. It was one thing to hear about wizards and witches from other parts of the world in school but actually seeing them was something completely different. Harry hadn't realized just how diverse the wizarding world could be.

Sirius waved and grinned charmingly as a gaggle of witches passed by. They looked as if they had just entered into the workforce after leaving school. They giggled as they walked by, covering their mouths with their hands and whispering to each other. Harry and Tracey traded looks and shook their heads.

"Are you going to show us the Ireland camp?" Harry asked, drawing Sirius's attention back to the two teenagers. Sirius grinned.

"Of course, just got to find it first. Shouldn't be too hard to miss."

"If you don't know where it is, how do you know what it looks like?" Tracey asked. "And how do you know when we'll find it?"

"Trust me," Sirius said. "We'll know."

They came across the Bulgarian field first. Harry stared at the figure posted on all the tents.

"Who's he?" he asked, not seeing the appeal of posting a face like that on his tent.

"Someone from the Bulgarian team, most likely," Sirius said. "I'm going to assume that it's their Seeker. He's supposed to be really good."

"Hm."

"It's Viktor Krum," Tracey interjected. "He's the youngest player on the team and considered to be one of the best Seekers in the world today."

"There's Ireland's flag," Harry said, pointing out the flag flying high above a group of tents. He hurried away, not waiting for Tracey and Sirius to catch up. The Bulgarian tents made him feel uneasy. He didn't like having multiple of the same face looking at him.

The Ireland camp was better, but barely. Harry blinked as he first spotted the tents, and then blinked again. He had to keep blinking and staring down at his clothes to make sure that his vision hadn't gone completely green.

"Well," Tracey said, amusement in her voice. "Ireland certainly outdid themselves."

"They always do," Sirius whistled happily. "You can always count on Ireland to put on a show. I can't wait for the mascot demonstration tonight."

"Mascot demonstration?" Tracey asked. Sirius nodded but didn't reveal anything more.

"You've been to these before?" Harry asked.

"Once or twice with my family. It was the only thing we could agree on when I was younger. Of course, that was before I started rooting for the opposing team just to rile them up. Now if anyone asks, we're rooting for Ireland."

"We were always rooting for Ireland," Tracey stated.

"You were. I'm not rooting for anyone," Harry muttered under his breath. Tracey glared at him while Sirius laughed.

On the way back, the trio ended up finding salesmen. Tracey tried to get one of everything, while Harry just ended up getting flags that represented the countries playing, a program, and a set of omnioculars. Harry laughed at Sirius, who was draped in the color green with all of his souvenirs.

"Do you have green robes to match with all of that?" Harry asked jokingly.

"Of course," Sirius replied. Harry couldn't tell if the man was joking or not.

He wasn't, Harry discovered a few hours later, as the gong rang, signaling one hour until the game began. The boy tried to trail behind his godfather and not be associated with what looked like a large green leprechaun, but Sirius wasn't having it. He flung his arm around Harry's shoulders and insisted that the boy walk next to him the entire way to the stadium. When Harry looked back at his foster parents for help, they merely smiled and waved.

The stadium was enormous. It was bigger than Hogwarts. Harry didn't think he had seen anything that big before. Thousands of witches and wizards could fit inside to watch the game.

And they were. Harry had known that the Quidditch World Cup was sold out but he hadn't really realized just how many tickets that meant.

"Want to take bets on how many people are here?" Sirius asked.

"No thanks," Harry said dryly. "How can I be sure you won't just give me leprechaun gold? You look like the king of leprechauns right now, so I can't really be sure if you're one or if you're just a wizard that thinks green is a new fashion statement."

Sirius let out a booming laugh and his grip on Harry's shoulders tightened.

"Davis?" he asked, looking back at Tracey's parents.

"It wouldn't be fair," Zach said, shaking his head. "I've been working on this for most of the year. The number of seats this stadium holds is permanently ingrained in my head."

"So you're with the Department of Magical Games and Sports?" Sirius asked.

"No," Zach replied, grinning. "Other departments helped out as well. They wouldn't have been able to complete a task as big as this without some help, especially not with the Triwizard Tournament coming up this year."

Sirius's eyes lit up in excitement at the mention of the tournament.

"How will we find our seats?" Tracey asked. "You haven't told us where we're sitting yet."

Sirius and Zach traded amused looks before handing their tickets over to a wizard checking tickets.

"Straight upstairs!" the wizard shouted over the crowd. "As high as you can go."

"That's how," Zach informed his daughter who huffed in frustration.

Harry was breathing heavily by the time they reached the top. He really hoped that the seats were worth all of this exercise.

Tracey gaped in amazement as they reached the top of the staircase.

"Box seats?" she asked, turning to her father and Sirius. "We have box seats?"

The two men nodded and Tracey squealed in delight before opening the door to the box. Harry followed after her and looked around in astonishment. Just from the view alone, he could say that yes, the seats were worth climbing all of those stairs.

Soon after Harry and his family had gotten settled in, another family arrived.

The Weasley family.

"Hey Harry!" Hermione Granger greeted him with a small wave.

"Hey," Harry replied, feeling slightly awkward. The Weasley boys just stared at Harry and Tracey, even though Mr. Weasley and Mr. Davis greeted each other amicably. Tracey's mother acknowledged them with a small wave as she remained seating. She looked exhausted, causing Tracey to give her a nervous look.

It didn't take long for the box to fill up. Harry didn't know most of the wizards and witches filling up the box but felt relieved when he realized that neither did his other year mates that were sitting nearby. Harry had sat in a seat between Sirius and Tracey in the front seat, hoping to remain relatively unnoticed. He didn't want the attention he had been getting earlier.

Hermione tried to keep talking to Harry and drawing him into the conversation going on between the Weasley children but she was failing. Harry was too nervous to talk and draw attention to himself and he had the feeling that the Weasleys didn't want him joining their conversation to begin with.

Then the last three seats were filled.

"Draco!" Tracey said brightly, waving to her housemate. Draco was accompanied by his parents, who were quick to greet the Minister of Magic and his fellow Ministers from abroad.

If things were tense before, they were nowhere near as tense as they currently were. Apparently things hadn't been resolved from the brawl a few years ago. Harry could only hope that another one wouldn't break out now. That would be too humiliating.

Draco's eyes landed on Harry as he ignored the adults and he sighed.

"Well, there goes all hopes for anything good happening," he said. "I suppose with you here, Harry, that we'll probably have to send half of the playing team members to St. Mungo's before the night is over."

Sirius made to move but Harry grabbed his godfather's arm. He smiled at Draco, though he was sure that it came out more as a grimace.

"I'm not that bad of luck, Draco," he said. "Just wait and see."

Sirius glanced over at Tracey, who merely shrugged.

"There's a rumor going around Slytherin House that Harry is bad luck when he comes to Quidditch games," she said. "Because usually when he does come, someone gets hurt or something bad happens."

"It's not just Slytherin House," one of the Weasley children muttered. Harry was pretty sure it was one of the twins. He flushed red.

"I'll explain later," he told his godfather. "So just leave it. The game's beginning."


	28. Year 4: Part 3

The match began with the presentation of the mascots. This was probably what Harry had been looking forward to the most. He didn't really have any idea of what sort of creatures existed in other lands. His classes focused on the creatures of Great Britain, if they talked about that at all.

"Veela," Mr. Weasley was announcing to his family as the Bulgarian mascots came onto the field first. Harry turned to look at his foster parents, to see if they were willing to explain. He had never heard of veela before.

Catherine Davis sighed and leaned across the seat to cover Harry's ears before the veela started dancing. Narcissa Malfoy was doing the same across the box to her own son and she didn't need to worry about her husband. He could take care of herself.

Harry wasn't sure why his foster mother had leaned over to cover his ears. After all, he could still see what was happening. Why did his ears need to be covered if they were just dancing?

No, it wasn't just dancing. The veela were entrancing, every movement fluid and perfect.

Tracey gave her mother an odd look but didn't ask questions. She didn't understand why only the men were covering their ears.

"Veela can be considered the sirens of the land," Mrs. Davis told her daughter. "Their dance is entrancing but the combination of their dance and their music has lured men to their deaths while trying to impress them."

To prove her point, she jerked her head to the Weasley family. Only Arthur Weasley had known what to expect and covered his ears. His sons were beginning to act like fools, unaware of what they were doing.

Then, minutes after it started, it was over and the crowd began to complain. Tracey relaxed. For some reason she felt that the veela were dangerous, one of the most dangerous creatures she had come across. Was it because they looked so human? Or was there something else that she hadn't seen but knew instinctually?

The Irish mascots came next. At first, the Hogwarts students in the top box didn't believe that the Irish would have anything that could match up to veela but the Irish team went with the most traditional mascot they could find—leprechauns.

As Harry watched the leprechauns show off, he began to realize that a lot of time had been put into this event. England must have been planning this for years, not months like he had been assuming.

"How are the countries chosen to hold the Quidditch World Cup?" he asked. His foster father grinned at his curiosity.

"Each country that wants to host puts in a bid with an international committee," he explained. "The committee will go and check the venues being considered, to see if there's enough room and if it's far enough out of the way that Muggles won't be a problem. The same country can't hold it twice in a row, so once they've hosted it, they probably won't be considered for another twenty years or so. Then the committee chooses the best option of the ones that they are given."

"How far in advance are they chosen?" Harry asked. Did they only choose one in advance or was there a whole line-up chosen already that the public wasn't aware of?

"I believe they have the next three or four decided on already, along with the back-up locations."

"Back-up locations?"

"In case something happens and that location becomes unsafe to travel to. There are usually two or three back-up locations, though I don't think any have been used in the history of the Quidditch World Cup. The back-up locations are usually the locations where the following Quidditch World Cups will be held."

After Mr. Davis explained it to Harry, it made sense. It would be pointless to plan an event only for it to fall through due to political instability. It would also be pointless for countries that had been selected as back-up locations to plan as well and to do nothing with those plans.

"Where's it being held next time?" Harry asked. Mr. Davis smiled secretively and directed Harry's attention back to the Quidditch pitch. The leprechauns had left the field and the teams were coming onto the field.

Harry was thankful that he had omnioculars. Otherwise there would have been no point to watching the game. The players moved too fast and Harry couldn't see the point of watching something where the spectators had no chance of seeing what was happening on the field. Looking around, he noticed that nearly everyone in the top box had a set of omnioculars to watch the game, even the Minister of Magic and his Bulgarian counterpart.

Compared to the few Hogwarts Quidditch matches Harry had seen, he could tell that school Quidditch was nothing like professional Quidditch. At Hogwarts, teams were mostly focused on getting points and catching the snitch as fast as possible. There was very little strategy involved, besides determining how many points were needed to win to get ahead in the House Cup.

Professional Quidditch, on the other hand…using his omnioculars, Harry could see the clear formations of the teams and the strategies that they had decided to employ. Nearly every flight maneuver had a name and every play was followed up with other plays. It flowed much more smoothly than if any House team at Hogwarts had attempted to do the same.

Harry didn't know much about Quidditch but even he knew that Ireland had a clear advantage over Bulgaria. However, that didn't stop the crowd from cheering and going wild whenever Ireland scored. The entire Ireland team was loved just as much as people seemed to love the Bulgarian seeker.

A few minutes into the game, Harry's heart leapt as the two seekers began to drive their broomsticks down toward the ground. He was on his feet with the rest of the crowd as he watched one of them actually crash.

"Finding Quidditch a bit more interesting than normal?" Sirius asked as they returned to their seats. Harry's cheeks reddened but the green-eyed teen said nothing. Tracey giggled at his reaction but Harry couldn't say or do anything to retaliate. Maybe, just maybe, Harry was beginning to see the appeal of Quidditch.

Professional Quidditch anyways. He still didn't like it to get onto a broom, though.

The pace of the game started to pick up. Ireland was significantly in the lead and Harry couldn't see how Bulgaria would manage to pull off a win. The other team was just too practiced, too fast, for them to change their luck.

Which is probably why the game turned ugly very quickly. It seemed to Harry that the mascots were more offended by the other team's actions than the Quidditch players themselves. It made sense. After all, Quidditch players probably encountered dirty playing more frequently than they would admit. The mascots, on the other hand, represented the country as a whole and wanted retribution for when one of their players and countrymen were fouled against.

Zachary Davis sighed as he watched the match turned from a Quidditch game to a battle between mascots. He just knew that because of this that he would be working overtime for a while. However, it was slightly impressive that the teams kept playing, despite the battle going on underneath them.

Harry wasn't sure what he should watch. Should he watch the battle between the mascots and Ministry wizards or should he watch the Quidditch game? Both had become insanely interesting to him and he couldn't focus on just one.

Then the Weasleys next to him were on their feet screaming at the seekers for each team. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see the Malfoys doing the same thing. He turned his attention onto the field just in time to see Krum catch the snitch, followed by a spectacular crash.

Once the spectators in the stand realized that had happened, there was an uproar. If Harry had been impressed by the noise the fans could create before, it had been nothing compared to now. Both sides were celebrating—Ireland for winning the match and Bulgaria for their seeker being the one to catch the snitch.

As the teams came into the top box to retrieve the Quidditch World Cup and to greet the ministers, Harry truly realized that this was a once in a lifetime experience and that he was glad that he hadn't turned down the opportunity. He still wasn't overly fond of Quidditch but he could appreciate the sport somewhat now that he had seen it played professionally.

"So nothing too terrible happened," Harry told Tracey as they were leaving the top box after the teams had gone. "Maybe this bad-luck curse that the House keeps talking about doesn't really exist."

Tracey shook her head and laughed.

"If you say so," she said. "However, I personally think that the situation with the mascot qualifies. The Ireland seeker also crashed twice and he's never done that before in a professional game."

Harry stared at her in disbelief.

"How would you know that?" he asked. Tracey tossed her head.

"I follow professional Quidditch," she replied. "Unlike some people in our house. Draco's going to put this on your record, just so you know, which means that there still isn't a Quidditch game that you've gone to where something bad hasn't happened."

Harry glared at his foster sister and dropped back to talk to Sirius. His godfather was smirking in amusement.

"I really should hear these stories," he said. Harry's cheeks reddened and he turned his glare on his godfather.

"It's really nothing," he said. "A bludger attacked the stands during first year, when I went to my first Quidditch match. Third year, when I was forced to go again, dementors were drawn to the pitch and nearly attacked. Now this happened."

"Just three incidents?" Sirius asked. "That's nothing to be worried about."

"Tell that to the rest of Slytherin House," Harry muttered under his breath.

That night Sirius somehow managed to convince Mr. and Mrs. Davis to let Harry and Tracey attend some of the celebratory parties. Harry wasn't sure how his godfather had done it but he had managed to sneak them into the Irish team's personal victory party.

It was unlike any party that Harry had been to before. The tent was full of people and drinks were flowing freely. They had arrived relatively early but even at that point, there were celebrating fans swaying from too much drink and singing off-key at the top of their lungs.

Harry and Tracey didn't touch the drinks aside from the butterbeer that Sirius provided them with. Neither of them wanted to get in trouble with Catherine and Zach and they were sure that Sirius was trying to avoid that as well.

After a few hours, the atmosphere of the party abruptly changed. Sirius, still paranoid from his time in the Aurors and from his years in Azkaban realized that something was off a few minutes before the rest of the partiers in the tent did. He grabbed Harry and Tracey's arms and dragged them away from their conversations.

"What are you doing?" Tracey demanded as they left the tent.

"We're leaving," Sirius said.

"Why?" Harry asked, trying to tug his arm out of Sirius's grip. He didn't think his godfather was aware of how much strength was in his grip.

Before Sirius had the chance to respond, the tent that they had just been inside was set aflame. Green eyes widened in surprise and Harry quickened his pace to keep up with Sirius, who was trying to put as much distance between them and the tent as possible. He didn't want to get caught in the stampede of people trying to flee the area.

Sirius was scanning the area, trying to find who had started the fire. He froze as his eyes landed on a large group of wizards and witches wearing hoods and masks.

Death Eaters.

He had thought in the thirteen years since Voldemort had been gone that there would be no more Death Eater attacks, that most of them had been caught.

Apparently not enough of them had been sentenced. Sirius started pulling Harry and Tracey toward the woods. This was much more serious than he had been expecting.

"Sirius, slow down," Harry gasped as he stumbled. Sirius's grip around his arm had tightened and now he was barely able to keep up. "What's going on?"

"It's dangerous here," Sirius shouted over the rising noise. More people were realizing what was happening and the screaming and panicking had started. "Everyone's in danger, especially Harry."

"What do you mean, I'm in danger?" Harry demanded. He had given up on trying to get his arm out of Sirius's grip. The man was too strong and moving too fast.

Sirius looked around and decided that the woods were their best chance of hiding from the Death Eaters.

"Let's get into the woods and then I'll explain," he told his godson. "Don't worry, I won't let anyone hurt you."

Tracey and Harry traded looks but they didn't say anything. They would just have to wait until Sirius found a place he deemed safe enough to talk to them.

When they finally stopped, Harry was gasping for breath. He was sure that his arms and legs were all cut up from the underbrush in the forest. Tracey was coughing from the exertion and Sirius was panting heavily. For a minute, all was quiet as the trio tried to catch their breath.

"Sirius, what's happening out there?" Harry asked. "Who are those people and why are they setting fire to the tents?"

"They're Death Eaters," Sirius explained. "They were You-Know-Who's followers back when he was in power. I thought that most of them had been locked up but apparently not."

"Dad said that it was impossible to identify all of them," Tracey said quietly. "Or to tell how much damage they did during the war. A lot of them walked away because there wasn't enough of a case to build against them."

"Why are they attacking?" Harry demanded. "Why here? Why now?"

"I don't know," Sirius admitted. "Maybe they just had too much to drink and decided to relive old times. Maybe it's part of something bigger. I wish I could tell you, but I can't."

The trio listened quietly to the screams they could hear in the distance. Then Tracey asked the question Sirius was dreading to hear.

"Are my parents going to be all right?"

"I hope so," Sirius said. "I hope so." He wasn't just hoping that the girl's parents would be all right. He was hoping that this wasn't turning into a massacre like he had seen during the first war. He was hoping that it was just property damage and that no lives were actually lost during this madness.

As the three waited in the woods, they could hear others pass by them, trying to find friends and family. Tracey tried to listen for her parents but Sirius knew that they would probably be with the Ministry officials, trying to control the chaos and catch the Death Eaters.

His fists clenched. More than anything he wanted to be out there, helping them, but he knew that wouldn't be allowed. He had to stick with Harry and Tracey. That would be the responsible thing to do. He was supposed to be responsible now that he had a godson to look out for. That had been drilled in his head over the summer. The Davises had made it very clear that he would only be allowed to see Harry if they felt that he was responsible enough and every time he saw Snape, the man insinuated the same. Sirius had been away from Harry for twelve years. He wouldn't be able to stand it if they were separated again.

The screams suddenly increased as the sky above the forest lit up. Sirius tilted his head back and swore. The Dark Mark. That definitely wasn't a good sign.

"Is that…" Tracey asked.

"The Dark Mark," Sirius said quietly. "The sign of You-Know-Who. That definitely means that those people in the masks were Death Eaters."

Harry shivered. He didn't understand what was going on. Why were Death Eaters suddenly attacking? Why now? Why after thirteen years?

They hid out in the forest until early morning. Sirius made sure that they remained out of sight until after the screaming had stopped for nearly an hour. He had been in Death Eater attacks before. Silence didn't always mean the end of the attack.

Their tent was mildly singed but no true damage had been done. However, the tent was empty when they came back. Harry and Tracey poked around to make sure that her parents weren't in any of the other rooms.

Sirius attempted to make a breakfast of eggs and toast but his eggs turned out salty and soggy while the toast was burnt. However, neither of the teens complained and just ate the meal silently.

Harry still couldn't wrap his mind around the attack. Why had the Death Eaters attacked? What was the point? It didn't prove anything. All it caused was chaos and fear.

"That's the point," Sirius said, making Harry realize that he had spoken out loud. "To cause fear. They don't need anymore reason than that. Death Eaters think that scaring everyone and bringing back their worst memories is fun."

"It's not everyone's worst memories, though," Harry said. His worst memories certainly weren't of Death Eater attacks and he would wager that Sirius's weren't either.

"Most people, though. War ruins the mind. You spend every day wondering if you chose the right side or wondering why you weren't born to the right family. Never knowing if you're going to be next…"

"Well, let's just hope that it was the result of too much drinking and celebrating and not a sign of something bigger to come," a voice spoke from behind them. Tracey leaped to her feet and ran to embrace her parents, knocking her plate off the table in the process. Sirius took care of the mess as he stared at Catherine and Zachariah Davis.

"Catch any of them?" he asked. Tracey's father shook his head.

"They disapparated as soon as they saw the Dark Mark in the air," he said. "We decided to let the Ministry officials actually on duty to take care of the aftermath. They didn't look like they needed much help."

The two men stared at each other for a few seconds before Zach inclined his head towards Sirius.

"Thanks for making sure they were safe," he said. Sirius shrugged.

"Anytime."


	29. Year 4: Part 4

After the Quidditch World Cup, the rest of the summer went by quickly. Harry barely had time to appreciate the end of the summer before he was standing with the Davis family on Platform 9 ¾, waiting to board the Hogwarts Express.

"Be safe this year," Catherine Davis said, making sure that their robes were clean of dust and dirt. They had changed soon after arriving on the platform. "Don't do anything foolish and be on your best behavior when the students from the other schools arrive. You need to set an example for Hogwarts."

"Yes mother," Tracey sighed.

"And remember that you're coming home after the Yule Ball for Christmas and New Year's celebrations. Harry, you're still planning on coming?"

Harry nodded quietly.

"Don't get into trouble," Zach warned. Tracey rolled her eyes.

"You don't need to worry about me," she said. "And you only need to worry about Harry during Quidditch games."

"Well, there's no Quidditch this year because of the Triwizard Tournament," Zach Davis said. "So I guess we don't need to worry." He and his wife traded amused looks. Tracey's eyes widened at the admission but before she could ask questions, the whistle blew, signaling for students to get on the train. She groaned but followed Harry onto the train into a free compartment.

"It's not fair," she said. "Why's Quidditch being cancelled?"

"Because the professors don't want to worry about Quidditch on top of dealing with extra students and making sure no one gets injured during the tournament," Harry offered. "And do you really think that regular Hogwarts Quidditch matches could stand up to the final of the Quidditch World Cup?"

Tracey sighed. "That was a really good game," she admitted. "Even you enjoyed it."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Could have dealt without the part that happened later that night."

Tracey grimaced. That had been bad.

They were joined by their yearmates after the train had started moving. Most of them had been at the Quidditch World Cup, which made up the majority of their conversation. When they had found out that Tracey and Harry had been in the top box, Harry was bombarded with questions about the experience. However, Harry noticed that while his yearmates were glad to talk about the Quidditch match itself, they took care to avoid mentioning what happened after.

He assumed that it was because it could lead to difficult topics. Sirius had said that most of the Death Eaters were made up of Slytherins. Any one of his yearmates could have had parents that had taken part in the attack. It was best not to mention it so they didn't have to admit if their families had taken part in the attack.

The fourth years had become accustomed to the length of the train ride over the years. It seemed like only a short while before they had arrived and were making their way toward Hogwarts.

Harry was glad to see the castle and he couldn't wait until he was in his four-poster bed, warm from the fires and full from the welcoming feast.

He just had to get through the rain first.

The Slytherins hurried through the rain, not wanting to wait around and find their other housemates like other houses were doing. They already knew that they would see the other Slytherins at their table during the welcoming feast.

Harry had learned drying and warming charms soon after first year. It was necessary in a place like Hogwarts, where rain was just as common as sunshine and where the castle was cold and drafty outside of the common room and dorms.

The Slytherin grinned as he sat down at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall as he heard screams from the hallway. Not waiting around had given the Slytherins time to sit down and avoid Peeves, who was planning something big, like he always did right before the welcoming feast.

"Any idea of who will be our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year?" Tracey asked as they sat down. They hadn't heard anything and the books on their supply list had just been standardized fourth year books for the subject.

"Hopefully someone decent," Blaise Zabini muttered. "Someone actually qualified to teach and not someone that the headmaster pulled out of thin air at last minute."

"I doubt that happened," Harry commented with a sigh. He looked around and couldn't spot anyone new so he could only assume that the new professor hadn't arrived quite yet. "Maybe all of the classes are cancelled for the year due to the Tri-Wizard Tournament. They already cancelled Quidditch, so why not cancel classes as well?"

His comments were met with snorts of amusement from his yearmates.

"Keep dreaming, Potter," Draco Malfoy said. "I highly doubt that they cancel every single class just for a tournament that's made up of three tasks that take place months apart. Besides, I thought you would be heartbroken if classes were cancelled."

"I may enjoy my classes but even I look forward to them being cancelled. It gets a bit dull seeing the same professors day after day."

"Then I imagine you'll be over the moon when the students from the other schools arrive," Draco said with a small sneer. Harry shrugged.

"Not as much as some of the older students," he said. "We all know why they're excited for the other students to come."

"Foreign girls and guys," the rest of the group chorused. On the train ride over, they had heard the fifth and sixth years chattering about the tournament and that was what most of their conversation had been centered around.

Once all of the students were seated, the first years quickly filed in. Harry was sure that they were rushing the process because the first years were drenched from crossing the lake and it wouldn't do to have all the first years in the Hospital Wing with colds before classes had even started. The Slytherins ensured that their first year house members were dry before they had even sat down and Harry hoped that the other houses were doing the same. However, a glance toward the Gryffindor table showed that their first years were still soaking wet.

"You'd think that they'd at least be able to take care of their own," Draco sniffed. "With all their preaching about loyalty. I can't imagine anything worse than sitting throughout a meal in wet clothes."

"There's worse things," Harry replied. "At least the food is warm."

Tracey gave him a curious look but Harry just shook his head. He didn't think much about his time with the Dursleys anymore but he still had dark thoughts about his childhood on occasion.

The welcoming feast was just as grand as it always had been. Harry knew that he would sleep well that night, with food filling his stomach and warm covers. The rain always made him sleepy and he knew that down in the dungeons, he wouldn't hear most of the storm. The only sign of the storm raging on that would be spotted down in the Slytherin common room would be the waves and dark waters of the Black Lake swirling outside of their common room windows.

Harry had planned to tune out the traditional welcome back speech, having heard it before and doubting that any new information would be given. He already knew about the Tri-Wizard Tournament and knew that he wouldn't be eligible to compete.

However, it was hard to tune out the welcome speech when it was interrupted just as it barely started.

Harry stared at the man. He hadn't often seen someone so wild looking and he regularly visited Hagrid. However, Hagrid's bushy hair and tall stature made him look harmless compared to this man.

Harry wondered how it was even possible to get some of those scars, knowing what magic was capable of. The missing leg made sense, since Harry didn't know of any spells that would replace a missing limb. However, how did one lose that leg to begin with, as well as an eye and part of a nose? And did he purposely choose to keep those scars or had healing magic just stopped working on his face after a few years? Harry had heard rumors that the more someone was magically healed, the slower and less effective healing magic became.

"Oh, bloody hell," Draco muttered under his breath, causing Harry to glance at him in surprise. "Father's going to be furious once he hears about this."

"Do you know who that is?" Harry asked. Draco gave a curt nod.

"That's Mad-Eye Moody. He's an ex-Auror. He used to give Father a lot of grief back when he was employed by the Ministry."

"What's an Auror doing here?" Harry wanted to know. Tracey elbowed him at that moment and tossed her head in Dumbledore's direction. The two men were talking and it looked like Dumbledore was about to make an announcement.

"Bloody hell," Draco muttered again when the headmaster announced that the Auror was to become their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

"Just think of it this way," Blaise Zabini said. "At least we'll know that he knows what he's doing. He won't be a fake like Lockhart was."

"There's just the fact that he's supposed to be barking mad," Pansy muttered from beside him.

"Well, it's going to be an interesting year then," Harry said. His yearmates snorted, knowing that what he said was a major understatement. With the Tri-Wizard Tournament and a supposedly mad ex-Auror teaching them Defense Against the Dark Arts, it would definitely be an interesting year.

As the feast ended, the fourth year Slytherins ended up in a debate about which of their Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers would be considered the most dangerous. Pansy and Draco were firmly convinced it had been Professor Lupin, the werewolf. Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott believed that it would be Professor Moody, since he had actually fought Dark wizards for most of his life. Tracey was arguing for Professor Quirrell because of the tiny fact that he had carried You-Know-Who on the back of his head most of the year. Harry was fighting for Lockhart and wouldn't be convinced otherwise. Yes, the other three were dangerous in a physical sense but Lockhart had the danger of stupidity on his side. To make matters worse, he had tried to make his students just as daft as he had been.

"He knew that he was teaching us lies," Harry said. "He knew that if we ever came across the creatures that he was teaching us about that we wouldn't be prepared to deal with them properly. If he had stuck around, how many people would have died because of his misinformation?"

"Well thought out, boy," a low voice growled. Harry stiffened, along with the rest of his yearmates. He turned to face the newly named Professor Moody. Clearly the man hadn't stuck around after the feast like the rest of the professors. Moody's eyes flicked up towards Harry's forward. "Potter, is it?"

Harry nodded silently.

"It's nice to meet you, sir," he said politely before walking away. Being in Moody's presence made his skin prickle with awareness and slight distaste. He could understand why others thought that the man was mad. There was a gleam in his eye and a slight twist to his face that made Harry easily believe in the few rumors that he heard. He didn't think that he would look forward to his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes this year.

They were nearly at the Slytherin common room when Harry decided to go someplace else.

"I'll be back before curfew," he told Tracey and the others before continuing down the hallway. He strode through the dungeons with a determined pace, only stopping when he arrived at his destination. With no hesitation, Harry knocked on the door and waited for it to open, holding his hands behind his back. When the door swung open, Harry allowed a small smile to creep onto his face.

"Good evening, Professor," he said quietly. "Can we talk?"

Severus Snape nodded and stepped aside, letting the teen into his office. "What about?"

"I figured that I should inform you before schedules were handed out that I decided to not drop Divination," Harry said. He hadn't had a chance to inform his Head of House of his decision before now.

"And what made that decision for you?" Professor Snape asked, beginning to look through the papers on his desk for Harry's timetable. Harry resisted the urge to shrug his shoulders.

"The thought of dropping the class made me feel like a quitter," he explained. "And quitting isn't in my nature."

"That's a very Gryffindor-like phrase," Severus remarked dryly. A faint spot of red appeared on Harry's cheeks.

"I know," he said. "But it's true. I'll do my best in the class, even though I think it's pointless. I just won't love it."

"You're aware that you won't be able to quit the class until after your O.W.L. results are in?" The Head of Slytherin asked. Harry nodded.

"It's only two more years," he said. "And I'm very accustomed to putting up with things I don't particularly enjoy. I just don't want to be seen as a coward."

Severus sighed but nodded. He made a mark on Harry's timetable, making a note of the times and location of the Divination classes for fourth years.

"Was there any other reason you stopped by?" he asked.

Harry hesitated. Did he want to voice his concerns?

At his hesitation, Severus Snape looked up with narrowed eyes.

"What do you think of Professor Moody, sir?" Harry asked, a bit nervously. He wanted an adult's opinion on the man. Just because Moody seemed a bit off to him didn't mean that he was a bad person.

Professor Snape stared at Harry for a moment before answering.

"I know that he's here as a favor for Professor Dumbledore," he said. "And he has the potential to be a decent teacher. However, I've seen his lesson plans and I question his judgment for some of the lessons he has planned. He holds very high expectations for others and I doubt that many of your classmates will live up to those expectations."

"What sort of expectations, sir?" Harry questioned.

"He plans on introducing to students under fifth year topics that are normally kept within N.E.W.T. level classes," Severus explained. "And not all of those topics are Ministry approved. However, Professor Dumbledore trusts that he knows what he's doing and believes that he's introducing such lessons earlier because of the Dark Mark that appeared during the Quidditch World Cup."

Snape looked at his son for a moment before speaking again.

"Harry, if he ever introduces a lesson or tries to make you do something in class that you're uncomfortable with, feel free to leave. I'll ensure that you won't get into much trouble for doing so."

Harry nodded, feeling relieved. He didn't plan on leaving in the middle of any lessons but it was nice to know that he could.

"Does that go for everyone, sir, or just for me?"

"Everyone," Professor Snape said. "It's not talked about very much here in Hogwarts but all students have the ability and choice to walk out of lessons that they feel uncomfortable with or believe that it goes against their morals. Professors just don't inform the students of that right very often to prevent students from walking out when they don't feel like participating or if they feel like they can't perform the required magic."

That made sense to the Slytherin fourth-year.

"Thank you, sir," he said before leaving the office.

Knowing of his right to leave, Harry felt more comfortable with the idea of Moody teaching him than he had moments before. He knew that Professor Snape wouldn't allow any harm to come to him.

The next day, classes began. Harry really hoped that he wouldn't regret his decision to keep Divination among his schedule of classes, especially since he had it on the first day.

"You're keeping Divination?" Tracey asked when she spotted his timetable. Harry shrugged.

"It's easy enough," he said. "And I would probably have had to replace it with another class. Do you know how behind I would be if I started taking a fourth year class without the foundation that third years get?"

Tracey stared at her foster brother with a smirk on her lips.

"You really sounded like a Ravenclaw right then," she said. Harry groaned.

"Just because I'm in Slytherin doesn't mean that I have to fit all of the house stereotypes," he reminded her. "What do you think of our schedule?"

"I'm wondering what kind of creatures the Gryffindors are going to set against us in Care of Magical Creatures," Tracey remarked in a deadpan voice. Harry smirked.

"Let's hope that it doesn't turn into another hippogriff situation," he replied. "I'm not sure if Draco could handle it."

The blond boy was passing them in the corridor and overheard Harry. He scowled at the dark-haired boy but couldn't say anything with students from other houses about.

Harry was thankful in the fact that he knew what to expect from his classes this year. It was doubtful that any of his professors had changed their teaching style over the summer. The only things he couldn't prepare for were the creatures Hagrid would introduce to them that day for their first Care of Magical Creatures class of the year and what Professor Moody had planned for the year.

However, after seeing the creatures Hagrid wanted them to work with, Harry began to doubt that he would live through the class.

Harry should have known something was up when he saw the horrified looks on the Gryffindors' faces and the shrieks coming from the girls. Gryffindors were supposed to be known for their bravery but even they looked hesitant to approach the creature of the day.

"Is it too late to drop classes?" Millicent Bulstrode asked as she spotted a Blast-Ended Skrewt. A lot of Slytherins were looking like they were considering dropping the class as well.

"The drop period ended as soon as the first class began," Harry remarked. "We're stuck in the class until after O.W.L.s are finished."

"If we even survive that long," Theodore Nott commented dryly, grimacing as a small explosion set one of the boxes on fire.

It didn't make Harry feel better when he learned that Hagrid had never dealt with the creatures before. If the professor didn't know what was going on, how were students supposed to learn anything? By the end of classes, Harry had made plans to go down to Hagrid's hut at the end of the day and try and convince him that Blast-Ended Skrewts would not be a good project for the term. It would be better for N.E.W.T. level students, not fourth years. They should be sticking with something easier, like Nifflers.

Compared to their Care of Magical Creatures class, the rest of the day passed in a boring manner. Harry had hoped that meant that the rest of the year would go just as smoothly.

If it hadn't been for Draco Malfoy, it probably would have.


	30. Year 4: Part 5

Harry didn't understand why Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy hated each other so much. He knew that Draco could be completely unbearable sometimes but the hatred that the two seemed to have for each other seemed to go past the point of schoolyard rivalry.

Tracey had mentioned once that they must have learned their attitudes from their fathers, but Harry thought it was absolutely ridiculous. What was the point of fighting based on what their parents said or did? Most of the events that caused the feud between their fathers had happened long before they were born, didn't they?

Harry watched on silently as Draco read the paper out loud so that everyone in the Great Hall could hear. Malfoy was lucky that most of the professors weren't eating in the Great Hall; otherwise he would have gotten a detention. The only professors currently in the Great Hall were Professor Snape, Professor Sinistra, and Hagrid. Harry knew Professor Snape wouldn't get involved, Hagrid was probably oblivious, and Professor Sinistra most likely didn't care about what the students got up to outside of class.

So it really wasn't a surprise when wands were drawn. Ron and Draco stared down each other, silently daring the other to hex first. Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom were urging Ron to turn away and had succeeded when Draco decided that he was sick of waiting.

His lips were starting to form the incantation of a hex when someone else intervened, making their presence known with a loud noise, much like a firecracker. When the smoke clear and the screaming had stopped, Harry could see very clearly that Draco had been turned into a small white ferret. Harry looked around to see who had cast the spell and his eyes landed on Professor Moody, who was approaching the group while shouting.

Harry's eyes searched out Professor Snape, who was beginning to get to his feet. They weren't completely inside the Great Hall but the doors were open enough that the professor could see what was going on.

Crabbe and Goyle rushed over to help out the ferret Malfoy but froze when the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's attention focused on them. Frowning, Harry decided that he should do something.

Without thinking, Harry stepped between Moody and the ferret that was Draco Malfoy. The man glared at Harry.

"Potter, is it?" he asked. Harry nodded silently. "I would suggest moving out of the way, if you don't want the same. The boy needs to learn that it's bad manners to attack when one's back is turned."

"With all due respect," Harry started. "There are other, more effective punishments that would get that point across better. How can one learn not to attack a turned back when one's professor does exactly that?"

The students watching the spectacle gaped at Harry, amazed by his audacity. Professor Moody growled in rage and pointed his wand at Harry's chest. "Move, Potter!" he ordered. Harry refused.

"Moody!" Professor Snape's voice came at the same time Professor McGonagall rounded the corner and shouted, "Alastor!" in a warning.

"Minerva," Moody greeted Professor McGonagall, ignoring Snape. Harry caught his head of house's eyes and gave his head a minute shake at the silent question. He didn't really feel threatened at the moment, not when he was in the presence of two professors he trusted and a majority of his year.

"What are you doing, pointing a wand at a student?" Professor McGonagall asked, passing over the books in her arms to a nearby student.

"Attempting to teach but Mr. Potter is currently in the way." Harry met Moody's gaze steadily. He wasn't really sure what had come over him but he would stand up for a member of his house that was under attack, even if it was someone he didn't necessarily like, such as Draco.

"Professor Moody turned Draco into a ferret," Pansy explained quietly. "I believe that Harry is making sure Draco doesn't get hurt any further."

Professor McGonagall frowned, which deepened when her eyes landed on the white ferret and saw that Pansy spoke the truth. While she was distracted, Professor Snape pulled out his wand and transformed Draco back. The boy scrambled to his feet, looking shocked and traumatized.

"Professor Moody, we never use transfiguration as a punishment!" Professor McGonagall began to lecture. Severus led Draco and Harry away, his grip tight on their arms.

"Break it up," he ordered the watching students, watching as they began to flee, satisfied.

"My father will hear of this!" Draco muttered angrily. "What can Dumbledore be thinking, letting that madman teach here?"

"The headmaster has his reasons," Professor Snape answered, "which he hasn't cared to share with the rest of the professors and certainly not with the student body. And I would suggest not informing your father of this scenario, unless you wish to give him the belief that you are not able to take care of yourself."

Draco flinched at the harsh words. "But he would be able to do something," he protested. "Get that man out of this school. He attacked me and threatened Potter! Surely that isn't allowed."

"Harry," Professor Snape corrected. "I do not care if you do not get along inside the common room and dormitories but as long as you are in public, you will address each other by your given names and pretend to get along, if only to show support for other members of your house."

"Yes, sir," Draco replied sullenly.

"Yes, Professor," Harry said quietly. Professor Snape released their arms that he had been towing them by and stared them down for a few seconds.

"I would suggest not doing something of this sort again and staying out of Alastor Moody's way. He is not a man to forgive easily or forget the crimes of others, even if the crime is simply disobeying him." Harry glanced down as black eyes landed on him. "Now, Draco go to the hospital wing if it is needed. If not, you and Harry can pick up a lunch from the kitchens. The meal is nearly over and it would not look well if you are late for your next class." The two boys nodded silently and remained in the hallway until Professor Snape was out of sight.

"I'm not going to thank you," Draco said as soon as their head of house was out of sight.

"I wasn't expecting any gratitude," Harry replied. "I would be concerned if you did thank me and would wonder if someone was impersonating you."

Draco smirked at the comment before it faded away. The gray-eyed teen sighed after a few seconds of silence. "I'll see you back in the common room," he said. "We have study group tonight. " Harry nodded silently. They didn't have much homework but it was easier to start their study groups as soon as possible. As Draco walked away, he wondered why the boy had been so talkative and nearly friendly just now. Could it be that Draco was truly thankful that someone had stepped in before things had gotten much worse?

Shaking his head, Harry made his way toward the kitchens to grab a quick lunch. It had been an interesting afternoon so far. He wasn't sure what had come over him to go against Professor Moody but it didn't matter. It had happened and was over with. He would find out about the consequences of his actions on Thursday, during their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with the ex-Auror.

Harry entered the classroom on Thursday afternoon with trepidation. He didn't trust Professor Moody but it wasn't like the situation with Lockhart. Back then Harry had reasons to not trust the professor. This year, all of the facts told the Slytherin that he should trust the man, that they had a professor that knew what he was doing. However, his instincts told him that there was something about Alastor Moody that wasn't to be trusted.

The dark-haired boy reluctantly took a seat beside Draco Malfoy, the only empty seat in the classroom. Draco was in a foul mood due to all the comments and jeers the Gryffindors had subjected him to about being turned into a ferret and Harry suspected that was the reason why none of the other Slytherins had sat next to the blond. Draco ignored his presence, instead choosing to glare down at his book.

The first lesson was about curses. Harry originally had high hopes, since they hadn't studied curses and counter curses very much in years prior. Quirrell and Lupin had mostly focused on creatures and Lockhart had been useless.

However, his hopes began to sink as Harry soon realized that Professor Moody seemed to be going more for shocking the class with what he knew. He should have known when the man began teaching them things they wouldn't learn until they were studying for their N.E.W.T.s.

His hopes began to sink even further as the professor began actually showing and performing the Unforgivable curses. He considered leaving but was hesitant to actually do so. It was the first lesson, after all. It would seem pretty extreme if he would just leave. Besides, he was already on Moody's bad side. He figured leaving would only make the tension between them worse.

The lesson about the Imperius Curse wasn't too bad but it was Professor Moody started to discuss the Cruciatus Curse that Harry noticed something odd. As the older wizard performed the curse, a crazed gleam entered his eye. Harry wasn't sure if any of the other students had noticed, seeing as they were all too focused on Neville Longbottom.

The Gryffindor was oddly distressed but Harry didn't think too much of it. From what he had heard about Neville, he was more tenderhearted than most.

No, what drew Harry's attention was the flicker of pride and triumph behind the crazed gleam in Moody's eye. It was a look that Harry had seen before in some of the older Slytherins in his house. A flicker that told Harry that Moody knew exactly how distressing this was for the students and that he was proud that they could do nothing about it. He knew that he had power over his students and he was enjoying it.

Harry had just enough time to wonder what house Moody had been in before they were introduced to the last curse—the Killing Curse.

The Slytherin sat frozen in his seat as he saw the spider die right in front of him. He barely heard the professor call him out as the only survivor of the curse. He could only stare at the dead spider that was unceremoniously thrown in the trash. The room was silent and after a few seconds, Harry could no longer stand it. He hated the feeling of the gazes of his fellow students.

The green-eyed boy stood up and silently left the classroom, leaving his things behind him. He could just imagine the whispers that would erupt as soon as the door closed but he didn't regret his actions. He didn't feel comfortable with the lesson and he was choosing to take matters into his own hands. He was leaving.

Harry was unaware of the magical blue eye that watched him leave.

He was nearly at the end of the hall when he heard a door open and close again. Then his name was called.

"Potter! Wait!"

Harry turned in surprise. That wasn't any of his housemates. He blinked as he watched Neville stumble toward him.

"Are you okay?" Neville asked. "You look a little shook up."

"I'm fine," Harry stated bluntly, trying to turn his surprise into a frown or a scowl. Why had Neville, a Gryffindor, come after him? They hadn't really talked before.

"I just wanted to make sure," Neville said. "That was a rough lesson. It couldn't have been easy, seeing how your parents died like that. It wasn't easy for me."

Harry stared at the Gryffindor, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly.

"Your parents were killed by the Killing Curse as well?" he asked. Neville gave an awkward shrug.

"Not exactly," he mumbled. Harry stared at him in confusion before it clicked.

"The Cruciatus Curse."

"They're still alive," Neville said. "But it damaged their minds enough that they can't take care of me. According to my gran, it was a fate worse than death."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, not sure what he should say in a situation like the one he was currently in. Neville gave another awkward shrug.

"I just wanted to make sure that you were okay," he said. "Like I said, you look pretty shook up and it didn't seem like any of the Slytherins were going to check on you."

"I'm fine," Harry restated. He hesitated and asked, "Are you okay?"

Neville gave him a smile that quivered. "I'll be fine," he said. "I'll just go back to my common room."

Somehow that didn't feel right with Harry. He sighed.

"Look, if you don't want to be alone for the time being, I'm heading down to the kitchens," he said. "To get some tea or butterbeer from the house-elves."

Neville hesitated.

"I won't ask any questions if you do the same," Harry said. "We don't have to think about it. We don't even have to talk."

"I don't want to be a bother," Neville said. "Or be in your way. I don't know if you've noticed, but I always seem to be in the way."

"You won't be," Harry assured the awkward boy with a small smile. "I might enjoy the company." Neville gave a silent nod and Harry turned to lead the way down to the kitchens. He hadn't planned on going down to the kitchens—he had actually wanted to talk to Professor Snape—but he felt that Neville needed to be around someone instead of sitting alone in his common room. He could always talk to Professor Snape later.

"Won't your house be mad if they see us talking together?" Neville asked once they were down in the kitchens and being served tea.

"Won't yours?" Harry retorted, biting into a biscuit. Neville shrugged.

"Maybe," he said. "But I don't have many friends in there to begin with. I doubt anyone would even notice that I never came back to class, besides maybe Hermione and my dorm mates."

"Sounds lonely," Harry remarked.

"It's better than being at home. There's no one my age there. I usually end up being stuck listening to boring conversations between my gran and by great-uncle and they don't really care what I do at home as long as I don't get into any trouble."

There was silence for a few minutes before Neville spoke up.

"What about you?" he asked. "What's your home life like?"

Harry hesitated. He didn't want to explain about the Dursleys or the fact that he was being fostered. He loved Tracey and her family but it was a complicated situation, especially when he had to consider Professor Snape and Sirius, and he wasn't sure if he wanted anyone knowing about it.

"It's complicated," he finally admitted. "It's better than it was before but it's still…" he trailed off, not sure how to explain it.

"It's okay," Neville said quietly, noticing his struggle. "It's not really any of my business."

Neville and Harry sat for a few minutes in silence before Tracey barged into the kitchens.

"Lessons over?" Harry asked before she could say anything. Tracey nodded.

"Are you okay?" she demanded. "No one could believe that you would just walk out like that?"

"I'm fine," Harry assured her. "How mad was Moody?"

"Not as mad as you would expect from someone who has the nickname Mad-Eye," Tracey commented. "He was just a bit startled that one, let alone two, of his students would leave in the middle of the lesson. After you left, things were pretty boring. We just took notes. You can copy them if you want."

Harry nodded. Tracey's eyes flicked over his shoulder to land on Neville.

"Don't ask," Harry said quietly. "So what do we have next?"

"Dinner," Tracey replied. "I hope you didn't spoil your appetite."

"Of course not," Harry scoffed and slid off the stool he was sitting on to stand up. He glanced back at Neville.

"I'm fine," the round-faced boy said. Harry nodded and tried not to yelp as Tracey grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the kitchens.

"Longbottom?" she asked. "What's his deal?"

"He was just looking for someone to relate to," Harry said. "I wonder what's for dinner?"

Tracey sighed. She knew that she wasn't going to get any more information out of her foster brother, at least not about Neville Longbottom.

After dinner, Harry made his way down to Professor Snape's office. He had tried to catch the man in the rush to leave the Great Hall after dinner but Snape had left more quickly than he had anticipated.

"What?" an angry voice snapped a few seconds after he had knocked on the office door. The door swung open with a sharp snap, causing Harry to jump. Black eyes softened when they landed on Harry's startled face.

"Do you have time to talk?" Harry asked. "Or is this a bad time?"

Professor Snape sighed.

"Come in and sit down," he said. "There's clearly something on your mind."

"I had Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry informed the man. "We were taught about the Unforgivables."

Severus stiffened.

"I didn't mean to leave the first lesson—I didn't want to get on Moody's bad side any more than I already am—but when I saw the Killing Curse…" Harry trailed off before clearing his throat. "Is that how they died? I have memories of a green light like that sometimes but I never really understood what that meant."

"Yes," Severus replied. "That's how it happened. At least it was quick, though. Their fate could have been much worse."

"Like Neville Longbottom's parents?" Harry asked. "He left the lesson with me and sort of explained. I think he was more affected than I was."

"I'll talk to Professor McGonagall about the boy," Professor Snape said. "If you have anything more to talk about…?"

Harry shook his head.

"I should do homework," he said. "I just wanted to let you know what happened this afternoon. I don't want to take up more of your time, especially when you don't seem to be in a good mood."

Professor Snape sighed.

"I'll always have time for you and the other Slytherins," he said. "Never worry about that. I'm just more irritable than normal."

"Because of the added stress of the Triwizard Tournament and two other schools being here?" Harry asked.

"That's one of the reasons," Professor Snape remarked. "As for the other…let's just say that you aren't the only one that has issues with Professor Moody."

"Do you have something against him?" Harry asked. "Or does he have something against you?"

Severus hesitated and he peered closely at Harry. Was the boy old enough to know? If he didn't learn now, he might learn in a different way later. It was probably better to be upfront about a situation like this.

"I made many mistakes when I was younger," he said, beginning to roll up his sleeve. "Mistakes that nearly cost me everything I loved, including you. Because of my mistakes, I was marked and there are some, including Alastor Moody, that can't see past the mark."

Harry stared at the mark that was being revealed. He had seen that symbol before.

"Is that the Dark Mark?" he asked. Severus nodded.

"You-Know-Who was very persuasive, especially for those that had high ambitions like I did. However, I soon became disillusioned and became a spy, even though there are some that don't believe that I switched sides."

"So you fought against You-Know-Who?" Harry asked. Severus nodded.

"I always regretted my decision because it separated me from what I loved," he explained. "From whom I loved."

"I've never seen this before," Harry said. "At least, it wasn't this dark before."

He had remembered seeing a tattoo on the few occasions he had seen his father wearing shorter-sleeved shirts but until now he hadn't ever been able to make out what it was.

"It's grown darker over the past few months," Severus said. Harry could tell that the man was leaving something out.

"What does that mean?" he asked. Severus frowned.

"The headmaster seems to think that this happening, along with the attack at the Quidditch World Cup, means that there's a possibility of You-Know-Who returning."

"What about you?" Harry asked. "What do you think?"

The Potions professor hesitated.

"I learned to never underestimate You-Know-Who," he said. "The man was obsessed with immortality. If anyone could find a way to come back from the dead, it would be him."


	31. Year 4: Part 6

_Harry,_

_If Snape thinks that there's a possibility of You-Know-Who coming back, then there probably is a very real possibility of that happening. As much as we've disagreed in the past, I can admit that he's never been one to exaggerate. However, keep in mind that there are many people that will do everything they can to prevent You-Know-Who or his followers from being a danger to you. While you're at Hogwarts, you shouldn't be in any real danger (I say shouldn't but your father always had a knack for landing in dangerous situations)._

_Don't worry so much. At this point, there's nothing that you can do and those that can do something are doing everything they can. Enjoy this year, since it's been decades since anything like this has happened at Hogwarts._

_Sirius_

_P.S.—I've taken an apartment in Hogsmeade for the time being. Feel free to visit anytime, even if it means sneaking out of the castle._

Harry rolled his eyes at the last line. He had a feeling his godfather was serious but he wouldn't do anything of the sort. His Head of House would keep him in detention for the next century if he even tried it.

The Slytherin student glanced up at the Head table to look at Professor Snape. He felt a twinge of guilt for writing to Sirius Black but he needed a second opinion. The information the Potions Professor had revealed had made him nervous. What would happen if You-Know-Who came back? Harry hadn't exactly had a calm life so far but he didn't want to imagine what it would be like if he had a mass murderer actively trying to kill him.

Unbeknownst to Harry, he wasn't the only one that had received a letter from Sirius that morning. Severus had also received one, which was the cause for his deep frown at the breakfast table.

_Snivellus,_

_As I've informed Harry, I've taken an apartment in Hogsmeade. I'll keep an ear out for anything relating to Voldemort coming back, but I'll doubt I'll hear much there._

_I expect that you'll keep me informed as well. I want to know everything that happens at the tournament or with the other schools. I'm worried that someone will try to target Harry and it would be easy to sneak someone in. I know it's probably redundant to say this, but keep an eye on Harry, will you?_

The letter wasn't signed but Severus knew from the greeting that it was from Black. He held in a sigh. He wasn't thrilled that Black was staying in Hogsmeade but his reasons for doing so were understandable. After missing thirteen years of chances to be with his godson, Sirius wanted to be as close to Harry as possible. So far, there hadn't been any problems with boundaries but Severus wondered how long that would last now that Catherine and Zach were no longer around to facilitate meetings.

Well, he would worry about that when something happened. For now, he had a class to prepare for.

After the first day of classes, things seemed to get better for Harry in his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. Professor Moody had seemed to get a better idea of what students could handle and there had been no repeats of that first class, where Harry and Neville had walked out. Harry was actually beginning to think he might enjoy the classes when Moody made a dreadful announcement.

"Right, during the next class we'll be reviewing one of the curses that I taught you the first day. The best way to fully understand a curse is to be on the receiving end of it, so I'll be putting the Imperius Curse on all of you and seeing if any of you has the strength of mind to actually resist its effects."

Almost immediately, Hermione Granger's hand was in the air, along with a few others. Moody sighed loudly.

"Granger," he called.

"Isn't that illegal?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Like I said, the best way to realize what a curse can do is to be on the receiving end of it," Moody responded. "The lesson has already been cleared by Dumbledore."

"Does that mean that he's also going to give you permission to perform the other two curses on us?" Draco drawled. "Since the best way to learn is through practical lessons? I don't think my father would be too pleased to hear that."

Harry didn't catch Moody's response to Draco's comments, only managing to understand the word ferret. His green eyes were blank and his hands were clenching the fabric of his robes tightly in nervousness. When the class was let out, Harry broke away from the rest of his classmates and headed for the dungeons, taking deep breaths to try and control his thoughts as he walked.

"Pot—Harry!"

Harry's dark head shot up in surprise at hearing Draco call his name. He glanced back at the blonde in confusion.

"Are you going to go see Professor Snape?" Draco asked quietly. Harry bobbed his head.

"What Moody was saying—" he began and Draco nodded in understanding.

"Mind if I come with?" he asked. Harry glanced at him in bewilderment, causing Draco to scowl.

"It's clear to nearly everyone in our House that Moody is demented. Even Professor Snape seems to agree," the blonde stated. "And it seems like something is even more cracked in his head than normal. My father doesn't like Moody but he's said that the man hated to use the Unforgivables, even when he was allowed to use them as an Auror. It seems strange that he's suddenly so keen to show them to and use them on his students."

Harry had to agree. It definitely seemed strange.

The pair walked to Professor Snape's office in silence. Despite their reasoning for going to the office, both had other things on their minds. At one point, Draco glanced at Harry and bit his lip before forcing his gaze straight ahead, putting Potter out of his mind.

Sensing that Draco had other things on his mind, Harry took the initiative to knock on the door. After a minute, it was opened by Professor McGonagall. The two students glanced at each other. They hadn't expected her presence.

"What is it, boys?" she asked as she let them into the room.

"It's about Professor Moody," Draco said. Professor McGonagall sighed in frustration upon hearing the name.

"What's he done now?" she asked. "Tell me he didn't transfigure another student."

Draco's cheeks flushed pink at the comment.

"No, ma'am," Harry said. "He hasn't really done anything yet but he's informed us that next class, he'll be putting students under the Imperius Curse to give them experience in dealing with the curse."

Neither Harry nor Draco had ever seen Professor McGonagall so uncomposed. Her mouth dropped open.

"Is that even allowed, Severus?" she asked, turning to the Potions professor.

"He said he's received Dumbledore's permission," Draco stated.

"Professor Dumbledore," Professor McGonagall absent-mindedly corrected. "Severus, do you mind if we postpone our discussion. I feel like I need to discuss this with the Headmaster."

Snape's dark eyes landed on Harry and Draco.

"To class, both of you," he said. "Unless you have something else to discuss." At the shake of their heads, Severus nodded curtly before rising from his chair. "Let me join you, Minerva."

As the two professors left the office, grey eyes met green.

"What do you think will happen?" Draco asked. Harry shrugged.

"Dunno," he said, "but no matter what happens, I'm not going to class on Thursday. I won't sit through a lesson like that."

"I could use a free period," Draco remarked. "I need to finish up that essay for Binns."

Harry ignored the blonde and began to walk toward his next class. If Draco wanted to have a conversation with him, he would have to have it while walking. Harry didn't feel like standing around in the middle of a corridor.

"Merlin, Albus. You can't seriously be thinking about doing nothing, are you?" Minerva McGonagall was appalled by what she was hearing. She had hoped it had been a lapse of judgment on Albus's part when he had approved Alastor Moody's lesson plan but it seemed that the Headmaster agreed with the ex-Auror.

"It would be a good lesson for the students," he said. "They haven't had many practical lessons, especially not with someone as experienced as Alastor."

"We're talking about placing Unforgivable Curses on  _students_ , Albus. This entire thing screams of illegality. If the Ministry finds out, what will stop them from removing you from the school—again?"

"It'll be fine, Minerva. After the events of the past few years, I doubt the Ministry will try to remove me from my position for a while."

Severus had his doubts. He knew that there was many in the Ministry who would attempt to take away the position of Headmaster from Dumbledore if given the chance. If it had been any other year, he might have passed on the information in hopes of getting out from under the man's thumb but with the Triwizard Tournament, he wanted Dumbledore in his current position. As much as he hated the man's manipulations, Dumbledore provided safety and security for the school.

"He's not going to change his mind," he informed Minerva instead. Then he directed his attention back toward the Headmaster. "However, to show that I disagree with this lesson plan, all of my students have permission to miss that class and any others of a similar nature if they so choose to skip."

Albus gave Severus a knowing look, as if he suspected that there would be no absences during the next Defense Against the Dark Arts class, despite Severus's personal opinions. However, the Potions professor knew his students better.

As Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall turned to leave, Severus was stopped.

"Severus, if you have the time, stop by my office before your nightly patrols. I have another matter to discuss with you."

Severus frowned as he stared at the Goblet of Fire. It had arrived the day before, shortly before he had dropped by Albus's office and he hadn't been able to look away. The Goblet of Fire was enchanting and it was hard to resist its lure.

The Potions professor shook his head to try and shake away his thoughts. It was ineffective and he was unable to focus on grading his papers. He would have to do it later, away from the staff room where the Goblet was being stored until the other schools arrived.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Severus turned his head to stare at Albus Dumbledore, who had snuck up on him. He held back a growl. It annoyed him to no end when Albus tried to sneak up on him.

"To some, perhaps," the dark-haired man replied with a sneer.

"I have noticed that you have been keeping a close eye on it," Dumbledore commented. Severus rubbed his left arm absently, a tick that was starting to appear as the Dark Mark grew darker with each passing week.

"Checking on it," he replied. "I do not think anyone would want it tampered with. It would reflect poorly on the school."

"You think someone would try?" Dumbledore asked. Severus gave a hesitant nod.

"With the events at the Quidditch World Cup, it would not surprise me," he said.

"You suspect Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked warily.

"It would be the type of plan he would attempt," the Potions professor. "Especially if he is desperate."

"He would be desperate to regain his body," Albus acknowledged. "What do you suggest?"

"Keep a close eye on the incoming students," Severus said. "It would be easy to sneak a Death Eater in among them. Our students won't know how the foreign students are supposed to act. We should also keep a close eye on Karkaroff."

"You would still suspect him?" Albus asked. "After all this time?"

Severus nodded.

"Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater," he said with a grimace. He had heard the statement said about him quite often.

"Not always," Albus pointed out. Severus didn't bother with a reply.

"The Goblet should be watched at all times," he said instead, moving on.

Albus protested at the idea. "The Goblet of Fire is an extremely powerful magical object. It would take a very powerful wizard or witch to tamper with it."

"I can think of three within this school off the top of my head," Severus replied. "I will keep an eye on it, with or without your permission."

The headmaster sighed.

"I will ask Minerva and Filius to help," he said. "Between the three of you, I doubt that anyone looking to tamper with the Goblet of Fire will succeed."

"We will make sure to check it one last time before we bring it out to the rest of the school," Severus continued. "If any sign of tampering is found between now and then, professors should stand guard around the Goblet when students put in their names."

'That seems like an invasion of privacy," Dumbledore protested. "Students should feel free to put their names in anonymously."

"The safety of the students is more important than someone's feelings," Snape sneered.

Albus sighed. "I will talk to Minerva and Filius tonight," the older man said. "I trust that you will stay here until I can fill them in?"

Severus nodded. He was thankful that Albus was willing to listen this time. There had been times in the past when the older wizard had not been as willing to listen. Yesterday was a prime example.

A few hours later, Minerva McGonagall approached Severus with a small frown on her stern face.

"Albus has informed me of what you and him have planned," she said. "Do you believe that such precautions are truly necessary?"

The Potions professor nodded.

"The headmaster of Durmstrang is a Death Eater," he said solemnly. "And no precaution would be too great after the show at the Quidditch World Cup."

The Transfiguration professor inclined her head in agreement.

"It will be foolish and suspicious-looking to keep the Goblet under constant surveillance," she commented.

"Constant surveillance should not be necessary unless there is evidence that the Goblet of Fire has been tampered with," Severus said quietly.

"What are we supposed to look for?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Confundus charms," Severus said. "Or any charms that could be used to alter how the Goblet of Fire works." The witch nodded.

"We should check it daily," she said. "Starting tomorrow. Interested in a cup of tea?"

"I have essays to grade," Severus replied, declining the offer.

"As do I," Professor McGonagall said cheerfully. "Come along, Severus. We can spend the time catching up while we grade essays. I'm sure Filius and Pomona will drop by."

The Potions professor made a face. He loathed these impromptu grading gatherings. Lately Minerva had been trying to get him to be more social and had been dropping by his office frequently in attempts to lure him out of his office.

Two nights later, the night before the schools arrived, Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick gathered in a room attached to the Great Hall, where the Goblet of Fire was being kept. Severus instantly frowned. The Goblet felt different than it had been the previous night.

Filius Flitwick must have also felt the change because he frowned and waved his wand, silently casting a spell. The Goblet of Fire lit up, Flitwick's frown deepened and he continued to cast diagnosis spells on the Goblet.

"What is it?" Professor McGonagall asked, picking up that something was wrong by the way the two men reacted.

"Someone has put a Confundus charm on the Goblet," Professor Flitwick said in his squeaky voice.

"A Confundus charm?" Minerva asked in surprise. "But who could have done so. Only the professors know that the Goblet is in this room."

"And the judges from the Ministry or any students sneaking about," Severus pointed out, thinking of the Weasley twins. The staff room had never been heavily guarded from students, though most kept away from the room out of respect or fear of what their professors might do.

"But why?" Professor McGonagall questioned.

"The Goblet has been Confunded to spit out the names of entries from four schools," Filius explained. "I believe the plan was to enter someone under the name of a fourth school. Since there would be only one name submitted for that school, it would be guaranteed that they would become the fourth champion."

"And since the Goblet of Fire creates a magical binding contract," Minerva began to realize, "the person selected would have to compete."

"It is a pretty good way to try and get someone killed," Severus remarked dryly. Filius and Minerva paled at the thought. "Can you take the Confundus charm off?" Severus asked the Charms professor. Filius nodded.

"It will take a few hours," he said, "but it is manageable."

"Do it then," Professor McGonagall ordered before Severus could reply. "We cannot allow any students to come to harm, be it from our school or from the other schools."

The smaller man nodded and got to work disarming the Goblet of Fire from the Confundus charm.

After a long night, Severus had to admit that he was less than happy to have to teach classes. He knew that his students wouldn't be able to focus and resigned himself handing out numerous detentions and deducting countless points from the houses that weren't his.

Severus was also aware that it would be another long night. Once the Goblet of Fire has lit, he, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick would be taking turns standing guard to make sure no one tampered with it.

That had been a fun argument, Snape thought as he made himself a cup of tea. Albus had been adamant that the students' privacy be protected. However, with the evidence of tampering and the argument that students could be killed, Professor McGonagall had convinced Albus to give in.

She had also forced the headmaster to agree to one last check on the Goblet of Fire before it was brought out before the school. The deputy headmistress didn't want to leave any stone unturned. Unlike Albus, who thought of the greater good, Professor McGonagall was a firm believer in protecting her students, despite the cost.

At six o'clock that evening, Severus went to go collect his Slytherins. They were chattering excitedly as they made their way to the front of the castle. Even Harry was surrounded by his friends and looking excited. Despite their eagerness, all of his students obeyed when he ordered them into lines, with the shortest students in the front.

The arrival of the schools wasn't something Severus was particularly looking forward to. Two new schools meant more students in the corridors during classes and in the Great Hall at mealtimes. He also wasn't looking forward to seeing his old comrade Karkaroff for the rest of the year. He and Karkaroff had never gotten along particularly well when they were younger and fully committed to the cause and he doubted that they would get along better now.

Severus growled as he realized that the delegations of the schools were late. He snapped a set of Ravenclaws back into line. He was keeping an eye on them as well as his Slytherins as their Head of House, Professor Flitwick, was guarding the Goblet of Fire and performing one last check to make sure no further tampering had occurred.

Harry's eyes widened with excitement as Dumbledore announced that the Beauxbatons delegation was approaching. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting but he knew that it hadn't been a carriage drawn by flying horses. For some reason, he was reminded of the Muggle fairytale Cinderella.

Of course, part of the reason behind that would also be the fascinating girls that were exiting the carriage. There were a few boys in the mix but they were easily overlooked.

Harry's jaw dropped open as his green eyes landed on a tall dark-haired girl. His hands began to sweat as she and the rest of her fellow students approached the Hogwarts castle. Harry joined in as the rest of the school began to clap, unable to take his eyes off of the Beauxbatons girl.

Tracey followed his gaze to the girl, who was stationed near the back of the Beauxbatons delegation.

"See something you like?" she asked in a dry voice.

"Shut it," he muttered and looked around. His eyes widened at the sight of the headmistress of Beauxbatons academy. How had he missed a woman of that size? It seemed impossible but he had.

Dumbledore led the welcome, but Harry barely paid attention to what he was saying. All of his attention was focused on the dark-haired girl, who was shivering from the cold, like most of her classmates.

"There aren't very many of them," Pansy remarked with a sniff. "And they all look older. Is that all Beauxbatons has to offer? I'm glad Mother didn't insist that I go there."

"I'm sure they're better than the look," Theodore Nott said. "You shouldn't judge them on first impressions. They wouldn't have been brought here had their school not thought they were able to show off their skills in the tournament."

Within minutes, the Beauxbatons delegation was ushered inside the warm castle and the students of Hogwarts were left waiting for one more school—Durmstrang. Many were speculating how the delegation was going to show up. Tracey tried to get a prediction out of Harry but he refused to say anything. He was quickly learning that he didn't really know what magic was capable of. The knowledge that he did have was comparable to a drop of water in an ocean.

When the Durmstrang delegation finally did arrive, Harry noticed something very peculiar.

"Is Durmstrang a boys' only school?" he asked. Daphne Greengrass sniffed.

"No," she replied. "But I suppose that they think that only boys will be able to handle the tasks of the tournament. How old-fashioned."

Whatever she would have said next was lost beneath the murmurs and shouts of the other students. Harry turned back to the delegation to find out what was going on. Beside him, Tracey and Draco were nearly jumping to get a look at a figure.

"What is it?" Harry asked. Tracey turned to him.

"They brought along Krum!" she announced. Harry blinked at her blankly.

"Who?" he asked. Tracey rolled her eyes.

"He was one of the Seekers that played in the Quidditch World Cup," she reminded him. "You should really pay attention to those things more."

Harry didn't listen to her. He didn't care about things like that.

"I'm going back inside," he announced instead. "I don't know about any of you, but I'd rather be near warm food than standing out here in the cold."

As soon as he brought up the cold weather, most of his yearmates began to trail after him. His idea seemed to make sense to them.

It was a good thing that Harry hadn't been expecting a calm dinner. If he had, he would have been sorely disappointed. While room had been made at the House tables for the arriving students, it was much more crowded and louder than normal. The Slytherin table was especially cramped as most of the Durmstrang delegation had followed Krum's lead and had sat at their table.

Harry pushed at his food, not exactly thrilled that most of their normal dinner conversation had been replaced by talk about Quidditch. It was times like this when he wished he enjoyed the sport but he just couldn't bring himself to do so. Malfoy in particular was becoming a bit unbearable, as he manipulated most of the conversation and directed it toward Krum. His fondness for the Quidditch player was blatantly obvious.

It seemed that Harry wasn't the only one getting annoyed with Malfoy.

"Give it a rest, Malfoy," someone further down the table muttered. "It's like you're in love with him or something." There was a yelp as the speaker was kicked. A few of the Durmstrang students started to rise to their feet and pull out their wands but a shake of Krum's head and they were sitting back down. Draco's face had turned sullen and dark upon hearing the comment.

Harry turned to Pansy, feeling like he had missed something. The Durmstrang students and Malfoy seemed to think that the comment was a larger insult than he had taken it to be.

"What just happened?" he asked. Pansy frowned.

"Not here," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth. "I'll explain later."


	32. Year 4: Part 7

While the feast was going on and Dumbledore was preparing to make the announcement about the Goblet, Severus, Filius, and Minerva were with Argus Filch, doing one last check. They were counting on the other professors in the Great Hall to ensure that their students were on their best behavior.

Almost immediately upon entering the room, Severus could tell that strong magic had been worked recently. When brewing potions he had to be sensitive to these types of things, as it would often alert him when things were about to go wrong, and the strong sense of magic in the room instantly put him on alert.

"Confundus Charm," Filius Flitwick said almost immediately. Severus didn't doubt that he was right. Filius was the Charms professor for a reason and he knew that part of the reason that the smaller man was such a prominent dueler was because he could detect what charms would be used before they were even cast, determining it by the magic pooling in the air.

"The same one as before?" Professor McGonagall questioned. Filius nodded.

"Whoever is doing this must really want the Triwizard Tournament to have four champions, not the traditional three," he remarked as he began to remove the charm. "It makes me wonder what they would have planned for the rest of the tournament if they're starting this early."

"Let's hope that with us standing guard throughout the night that there's no need to find out," Minerva said.

"Unless their chosen target is chosen as one of the three champions," Severus said. The other two professors stared at him like they hadn't considered that possibility. He knew that they hadn't thought that the Confundus Charm might be a diversion or a back-up plan but that had been one of the first things that had gone through his mind. He never tried to go with the obvious answer, even if it was the most probable one.

"Are you done," Filch demanded. "Headmaster Dumbledore has begun his speech."

Severus and Minerva turned to Flitwick, who nodded. The charm was off and hopefully another one wouldn't be placed on the Goblet again until the champions were selected.

As Dumbledore began to speak, the entirety of the Great Hall quieted and focused on him. While he was speaking, Harry glanced around the other tables as he listened to the introduction of the judges. There were a few blank faces from the students of the other schools and Harry wondered if they had already heard a different version of this speech or if they didn't completely understand what Dumbledore was saying. He doubted that English was the primary language in their schools and didn't know how long they had been learning the language. He had already noticed that there were some students from Durmstrang that had sat with them that had more difficulties than others.

Harry's thoughts were distracted as Filch brought in an old, decorated casket. His green eyes narrowed. What was inside that was going to select the champions? It seemed obscene to keep a living creature or person inside the casket and have them determine the champions but how could an inanimate object select who would be the most worthy? Then he remembered the Sorting Hat.

Harry kept his eyes on the casket as Dumbledore explained the layout of the Triwizard Tournament, trying to figure out what lay inside. Would it be something blatantly magical and odd or would it be like the Sorting Hat and be something Muggle-like transformed into something magical?

It seemed like the wizards and witches of the past preferred the second option, Harry realized as the Goblet of Fire emerged. Sorting Hat. Goblet of Fire. It seemed like the magical people of the past also preferred to go with the most obvious names.

Once the Goblet of Fire was revealed and closing remarks were stated, everyone began to leave the Great Hall. Harry stuck close to Pansy, not wanting to lose her in the crowd. She had promised explanations about Draco and the Durmstrang students' reactions and he wanted to ensure that he would get those explanations.

As they entered the common room, Harry attempted to talk to the female Slytherin but she shook her head and whispered, "Wait until everyone's gone to bed."

It was a long wait. It was a Friday night and with no classes, everyone was keen to stay up later than they would on a weekday. Harry passed the time by reading and finishing up his homework for the following week. It was nearly three in the morning by the time the last person other than himself and Pansy went up to the dormitories.

"So what happened at dinner?" Harry asked, wanting to get straight to the point. "And why all the secrecy?"

Pansy sighed. "They insinuated that Draco was in love with Krum—actually in love, not just a fan. That's a huge insult among purebloods."

"Why is it an insult?"

"Because it refers to…" Pansy trailed off before forcing herself to say the word. "Homosexuality. It's a bit of a taboo topic, see? It's not generally something that's discussed in polite society, especially among purebloods. If the prefects caught us talking about it, they would probably bring us to Professor Snape or write to our families because we're  _too young_  for these conversations."

Harry frowned but remained silent.

"Being gay isn't something that's accepted among the wizarding world," Pansy said. "Maybe more among muggleborns because muggles are a bit more accepting than wizards and witches, but generally homosexuality isn't accepted, let alone tolerated. Nothing really is, besides a man marrying a woman."

"Why?" Harry asked. "Why is the wizarding world so against it if muggles aren't?"

"Because muggles aren't against it," Pansy pointed out. "The government is mostly made up of purebloods and halfbloods and for that reason, the Ministry has always been willing to do things just because it's the opposite of what muggles do. It could also be because for most of history, there was a focus on keeping magical lines in magical families and having children to continue magical lines. No one wanted magic to die out and there's no way for two males or two females to have children of their own. After a few generations, not many people have bothered to question those viewpoints. They simply grow up believing that homosexuality isn't acceptable and they'll pass those beliefs on to their own children."

"That seems…" Harry struggled to find the right word for what he was thinking of such feelings. He hadn't realized that the wizarding community was like that. After a few seconds, he noticed Pansy watching him closely, waiting for him to finish. She looked almost…anxious to hear his opinion? "Not fair," he finished. He had heard his uncle go on rants about homosexuality being disgusting and wrong but he had never agreed. He had always felt that if it wasn't affecting him that he shouldn't have an opinion on the subject. Even when it did affect him or he did have an opinion, it had never truly mattered at the Dursleys.

A faintly relieved look crossed Pansy's face at his words.

"I'm glad that there's at least one person besides me that's able to think for themselves," she stated. Harry blinked.

"So you also don't agree with the general opinion?" he asked. Pansy nodded.

"I used to think that way," she said. "But then I learned about my father's sister. Growing up, I absolutely adored her. She always gave me attention and she was the only one that I felt truly cared about me. The rest of my family barely notices when I'm around. They're too involved with their next project or figuring out their own problems. She was the only one that took the time to learn about me and how things were going in my life. I used to think that was the only reason why she was a bit of an outcast in the family but I eventually learned otherwise.

"Then one day, she completely disappeared and everyone stopped speaking of her. I wasn't even allowed to mention her name after she disappeared."

Pansy took a breath to calm herself and her thoughts.

"I wrote to her, knowing that an owl could find her almost anywhere she would go. After a few months, she wrote back and explained, figuring I was old enough to understand the basics of it and that I was young enough that my opinions could be easily swayed. It turned out that she had left to go to the Muggle world because it was more accepting."

"So your aunt is…"

Pansy nodded. "She's attracted to women. Because of that, she refused to marry a man my grandfather set up for her, which made her into the family outcast. They could never understand why she didn't want to marry and have children. When she left wizarding society for the Muggle world, she was disowned officially from the family. It's normally inconceivable, a pureblood witch leaving the wizarding world behind completely to live as a Muggle."

"It's better than other options," Harry muttered.

"It is," Pansy said, nodding in agreement. "And she's much happier now. The summer between second year and third year, I snuck off for a few days to go to her wedding. If you really want an idea of how self-involved my family is, they didn't even notice me missing and I was gone for half a week."

Harry winced. He should have guessed that he wasn't the only one that had a difficult home life.

Pansy yawned.

"Do you understand now?" she asked. Harry nodded and Pansy stood up. "I'm going to bed then. Night."

"Night," Harry said quietly. He stayed in the common room for a while, thinking about what he had learned. It was nearly an hour later when he got up out of his seat to go to his own bed. On his way up, he came across Cassius Warrington, who was just leaving his dorm with a slip of paper in his hand.

Their eyes met and held for a minute before Harry stepped to the side.

"Best of luck," he murmured before continuing the journey to the fourth year boys' dorm.

* * *

Due to his late night, Harry didn't make it down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He missed lunch as well, making him grateful he had finished all of his homework the night before while waiting to talk to Pansy. After a quick trip to the kitchens for a small meal, Harry spent the rest of the day in the common room, surrounded by his housemates.

Draco had forgotten the insult paid to him the night before, it had seemed, or else he had decided to ignore it. Harry believed it was the latter, because he knew from experience that Draco wasn't one to forgive and forget. Draco was one to hold a grudge. By the middle of the afternoon, he was commanding the conversation of the primary room, which was centered on predictions of whom the champions would be. However, Harry noticed that he didn't say much about the Durmstrang champion predictions.

Of course, that could be because Krum seemed like the obvious choice to everyone in the house. Even Harry was willing to bet that the champion selected from Durmstrang would be Krum.

At the Halloween feast that night, things were much more tense than they had been the night before. No one was interested in the food or the decorations. They just wanted to know who was going to be picked.

At the end of the feast, the names of the champions were released from the Goblet of Fire. Viktor Krum from Durmstrang. Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons. And finally Cedric Diggory from Hogwarts. When Cedric was announced, Harry deliberately averted his gaze from Cassius Warrington, the Slytherin who had failed to become champion. Slytherins didn't want others to witness their humiliation and Harry suspected that he was the only one that knew for sure that Cassius had entered his name.

Severus held in a sigh of relief as the Goblet of Fire's flames suppressed themselves. There would not be a fourth champion. He examined the faces of his colleagues, watching for their reactions. Since the Confundus Charms had been placed before the other schools had arrived, the logical explanation was that someone from Hogwarts was responsible. The reactions would help him get a better idea of who that could be.

Minerva and Flitwick looked relieved, just as he felt. Albus didn't reveal anything behind the twinkle of his blue eyes. Surely he thought that all of Severus's worrying was for naught. Pomona Sprout was clapping happily for the champions. Severus knew that she had been aware of the Confundus Charms but the Hufflepuff Head of House had not participated in the checks, feeling that there were others that were better qualified to handle the situation better. The only ones that had reactions that could be classified as not normal were Sybill Trelawney and Mad-Eye Moody. Sybil looked suspicious by the picking of only three champions and was checking her teacup for some sort of sign and Mad-Eye…

Revealed absolutely nothing except a slight frown on his face. Severus sat back in his seat, considering his options. Going to Dumbledore wouldn't help if Mad-Eye was involved. The headmaster had absolute faith in the ex-Auror, which irritated Severus. It allowed the man to get away with more than the normal professor could. He would just have to wait and watch.

When the champions were gone, Professor McGonagall began explaining to the students in the Great Hall what would happen during the first task, since Professor Dumbledore had left with the champions.

"The first task will take place on the twenty-fourth of November," she announced. "The champions will have no idea of their task until the day of the first task. I might remind you that the champions are to work alone. That means that that no student or professor is allowed to give them any kind of help or information regarding the task. To prevent any leaks, the first task will be a secret to all students as well."

This announcement was met with a chorus of groans. Everyone wanted to know what types of tasks the champions would face.

"I have been informed that the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students that were not selected will be staying at Hogwarts until the end of the year. If they would like, they are welcome to sit in on Hogwarts classes and join us for meals as often as they wish."

Now the chorus of groans had turned into murmurs of excitement. Everyone hoped that the foreign students would choose to do so, in order to give them a distraction from the daily lull of lessons.

"I doubt they will," Theodore Nott muttered across the table from Harry. "Their headmasters and headmistresses probably don't want them to leave and come to Hogwarts instead after the year has ended."

"But neither of them brought along professors to teach them," Tracey pointed out.

"So?" Theodore shrugged. "For one to be selected as Headmaster at Hogwarts, they're supposed to be able to teach in all subjects. I imagine the criteria would be the same for other schools. They'll probably be taught by their headmaster and headmistress."

When the feast was over, Harry happened to glance over at the Beauxbatons delegation. Many of the girls were looking upset that they hadn't been chosen, the dark-haired girl who had caught his eye included.

Without thinking, he walked over to her.

"I'm sorry that you didn't get selected," he told her. She blinked at him in surprise.

"T'ank you," she said in a heavy accent. "You are 'Arry Potter, are you not?" Harry nodded. It seemed that he was famous even outside of England.

"What's your name?" he asked. The dark-haired French girl regarded him for a moment before speaking.

"Arielle," she said. "It is nice to meet you." Harry gave her a wide grin before he had to rejoin his yearmates.

"Someone caught your fancy?" Blaise asked. Harry refused to say but his cheeks flushed a light pink, causing the boys to laugh and jeer at him.

"I'm surprised," Theodore said. "We thought it would never happen. You and Draco were the only ones that hadn't shown any fancy towards anyone yet. We were starting to wonder if you were just in love with yourselves more than any other human being."

Harry shoved him lightly. "Shut it," he ordered, glancing over at Draco, who quickly took the lead in the group. Being in the lead meant that no one could see his reactions.

"Well now we know what we've got to find to get Harry's attraction," Blaise snickered. "She's got to be older."

"And foreign," Theodore added. Tracey rolled her eyes at the boys' teasing and quickened her pace to reach Harry.

"Ignore them," she whispered. "They just wished that they had the courage to do something of the same. It was adorable. I would have thought you would be stuttering and making a fool out of yourself."

Harry glared at his foster sister. "You're not helping," he hissed. She smirked, indicating that she hadn't been trying to.

"She's pretty," she admitted, easily keeping pace as Harry tried to speed up. "But they're right. She's older. You're only fourteen while she's seventeen. I don't know of many girls that would give a glance to a younger boy, especially when they're of age."

Harry raised a dark eyebrow. "What are you getting at?" he asked warily. Tracey shrugged.

"Nothing," she said. "Just pointing a few things out."

"You don't approve," Harry realized. Tracey's lips pursed.

"It's not that," she admitted. "It's certainly better than some other options." Harry's back stiffened at that. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm not going to get hurt," he snapped. "I don't even know her."

"All right," Tracey said. "Just making sure."


	33. Year 4: Part 8

"So it's true that Harry Potter was Sorted into Slytherin of all houses!"

Harry stared up at the woman who had appeared in front of him in confusion and slight astonishment. He had been relaxing on the school grounds during a break between his classes, having chosen to go outside instead of back to the common room due to the abnormally warm and sunny weather. It was a few days after the announcement of the Triwizard Champions and Harry was relieved that things had calmed down.

Or so he had thought.

"Sorry, do I know you?" he asked. He didn't recognize the woman. She wasn't one of his professors and judging by her accent, she wasn't from one of the other schools. Harry tried to think of other reasons that a visitor would be on Hogwarts' grounds but he was too distracted by the bright green robes the woman was wearing.

"Rita Skeeter, writer for the Daily Prophet. I came here to interview the ones selected to be champions but imagine my delight upon seeing the Boy-Who-Lived on my way in. Harry, would you mind answering a few questions about the Triwizard Tournament? Just so we can get the perspective of a student at Hogwarts about everything that's going on."

Harry blinked. "Er…"

"Fantastic. Don't mind if I use a Quick Quotes Quill, do you?"

Before Harry had the chance to respond, the woman had already whipped out a quill and a piece of parchment and cast a levitating charm on them to keep them floating next to her.

"So, Harry, were you terribly disappointed to not be selected as a Triwizard Champion? I know the age limit that was recently put in place must have devastated your hopes of entering."

By now, Harry had figured out that he was dealing with a reporter of sorts. He looked around, hoping that there was someone nearby that could help him out of the situation and get him away from this woman. In his desperation to find someone, he completely forgot to answer the woman's question. However, upon finding no one, he turned back to Rita Skeeter and saw her quill writing away.

"What did you think of Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff, getting chosen instead of someone from Slytherin? What's life like in Slytherin house? I'm sure you have loads of stories to tell."

Harry remained silent. He was still stunned by Rita's sudden appearance and couldn't find any words to answer her questions or to tell her to go away.

"Tell me, Harry, do you know why the Sorting Hat chose to place you, the Boy-Who-Lived, in Slytherin? Did it have something to do with the way you defeated You-Know-Who on the night your parents died? How do you think your parents would have felt if they were alive and learned you had been Sorted into Slytherin?"

"I thought this was supposed to be an article on the Triwizard champions." Harry finally got the words out of his mouth as he scrambled to his feet. If no one was around to help him, that also meant that there was no one around to see him flee from this woman. Harry normally wouldn't condone running away but he felt that there was no other option in this case.

"Miss Skeeter, I believe you should hurry into Hogwarts if you want to be present for the Weighing of the Wands ceremony to begin. That should be much more entertaining and worthy of being reported instead of an interview with a fourth year student."

Harry let out a deep sigh of relief when he heard the familiar drawl of his Head of House.

"Why, Professor Snape, what a surprise upon seeing you outside for once!" the reporter cried, eyes glittering. Severus ignored the jab in her words and instead gestured at the castle.

"If you will, Miss Skeeter," he said coolly. "And I trust that none of what you've written about Mr. Potter will make it into the Daily Prophet. I imagine his guardians will be outraged at seeing him in the news, especially when they have not given permission for him or his words to appear in any articles. Since he's underage, it would be quite illegal to print anything about him without their permission."

Rita Skeeter's lips pursed as she saw her chance for a headline slipping away.

"You've made your point, Professor Snape," she remarked before snatching away the quill and parchment and heading for the castle.

"I wasn't giving her an interview," Harry informed Professor Snape, before the man could lecture him. "She just appeared out of nowhere."

Professor Snape was silent for a few seconds before he replied, "Get to class, Mr. Potter. I'll be writing to your guardians about the incident, so they're aware of what's going on."

Harry nodded reluctantly, somehow feeling like he had gotten scolded despite not having received a lecture. He gathered up his materials to head for his next class—Transfiguration.

Severus watched the boy go, following the path Rita Skeeter had just taken. He followed Harry to ensure that he didn't run into the reporter again, silently cursing the Ministry for allowing her into the school. He had worked hard to make sure that there weren't many articles written about Harry and his Sorting and he had tried to ensure that the boy had a peaceful education, uninterrupted by reporters from the Daily Prophet and other news sources. All of them were dying to write about the Boy-Who-Lived and he still received requests weekly to allow them to interview the boy.

And now with Rita Skeeter lurking about, it seemed that all of his hard work would be ruined by the end of the year. It was unfortunate, really. The boy didn't deserve to have all that spotlight and attention on him, not when he was trying to study.

Severus decided he would mention the Davis family taking out a restraining order against Rita Skeeter for Harry. He doubted that it would be very effective, since the woman rarely heeded threats of legal action, but it could work to be a nice advantage for both the family and Harry.

* * *

The next morning, Sirius Black fire called Catherine and Zachariah Davis upon reading Snape's letter.

"Morning, Sirius," Zachariah said as he answered. "I suppose you've received a letter as well?"

"About Rita Skeeter?" Sirius questioned, just to make sure that they were on the same page. Zachariah Davis nodded and his wife huffed from her spot at the kitchen table.

"An awful woman," she muttered. Sirius smiled at her tone.

"Morning, Catherine," he said. "So what do you propose that we do?"

"I personally like the idea of a restraining order," Catherine announced. Her husband sighed.

"Yes, it would be nice, but there's a very high chance that it won't be given. Skeeter hasn't been stalking him and they would claim that restricting her abilities to write about him or interview him would be an infringement on free speech and free press."

Catherine muttered into her coffee about how ridiculous the notion was.

"He's a boy," she protested. "He shouldn't be hounded by reporters, especially not at school. Surely Dumbledore wouldn't agree to allowing reporters to harass children trying to study. Imagine the effects on their marks."

"According to Snape, Dumbledore has given the Daily Prophet and their reporters unlimited access to school grounds and to interview any children with permission from their guardians during Triwizard Tournament events. Unless the parents or guardians go on record saying that they don't want their children interacting with reporters, permission is assumed to be given," Sirius reported.

Zachariah sighed. "I'll be writing a letter to him, then, saying that Harry and Tracey don't have permission," he said.

"And I'll be going to the Ministry for that restraining order," Catherine announced, draining the last bit of tea from her cup and getting to her feet. "And I'll go every single day until one is given. I don't want that woman around my children."

Zachariah and Sirius exchanged glances.

"Give me a minute to gather my things," Mr. Davis said, giving in to his wife. Sirius shook his head.

"See you at the Ministry," he said. "If a restraining order is given, I want to be there to deliver it to Rita personally." The animagus was smirking at the idea.

What followed next was hours of arguing with both the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Department of Magical Education. The Ministry of Magic didn't want to distribute a restraining order, especially when no actual crime had been committed, but the three adults weren't giving in. Sirius had tried to use his status as innocent victim of the Ministry but that didn't help their case when they were directed to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Neither did his position as a former Auror. By the end of the morning, nearly everyone involved had a headache, which was the probably the reason for—

"All right! We'll give you a bloody restraining order!" the desk worker shouted, feeling frazzled. The scribe began to scribble out the official order, leaving the Davises and Sirius feeling relieved and triumphant.

"I can't remember the last time someone's dared to give Skeeter a restraining order," a bystanding Auror remarked. "I wish I could see the look on her face when she sees it." Sirius glanced at him. He didn't know this Auror, so it must have been one recruited while he was in Azkaban.

"You're welcome to join me when I give it to her," he said. "I intend to deliver it personally."

The Auror looked like he desperately wanted to accept the offer but was unable to accept. He couldn't leave, not while he was on duty.

"Maybe another time, if I'm lucky," he said. "Keep an eye on her wand, Black."

Sirius nodded. He doubted that Skeeter would curse or hex him while within the Ministry walls but one never knew. Rita was a bit defensive over her writing and hated when people tried to restrict her.

Rita Skeeter's office was just as ostentatious as she was, Sirius noted. Catherine and Zachariah Davis had abandoned him for their jobs now that their errand was out of the way, leaving Sirius to take care of delivering the restraining order on his own. The reporter's office was decorated with furs and expensive rugs and paintings, everything exactly in its place.

Sirius held in a sneer. The lack of papers and books in the office proved to him that Rita was solely a gossip writer, writing things based on her own opinions and thoughts than on facts.

"Sirius Black!" Rita exclaimed upon seeing him. "Are you finally granting me the opportunity to interview you about your time in Azkaban and how you've been doing since you've been declared innocent?"

"No," Sirius stated bluntly. "I'm here to give you a restraining order."

Rita stared at him like she had never heard the term before. "A what?" she asked.

Sirius allowed a smirk to appear on his lips. "A restraining order, Rita, against my godson, Harry Potter."

"I haven't written anything about him!" Rita protested, glancing back at the article she had just been working on.

"Then consider this a precautionary measure," Sirius replied. "If you're seen approaching Harry or attempting to interview him, we can bring legal action against you. Anything written by you that contains the name Harry Potter or any of his nicknames or titles has the potential of us bringing a lawsuit against you. If I remember correctly, reporters are supposed to report the news, not be it."

Skeeter frowned at his words. "Very well," she sighed. "Be boring like that."

Sirius leaned forward and put his hands on Rita's desk, allowing him to stare down at her.

"And if I catch you harassing or writing anything negative about my godson, legal action will be the last thing you have to worry about, since I'll be pursuing other methods of retribution," he informed her. "Just something to keep in mind."

The blonde reporter stared at him in disbelief. Satisfied that his message was received, Sirius handed her the restraining order and left the office whistling. This, along with the Hogsmeade visit that Hogwarts students had made for a very interesting week. It came just in time, too. Sirius had started to get bored.

* * *

On Saturday, Harry walked down to Hogsmeade with his yearmates, desperately trying to ignore their teasing. Somehow his group of friends had found out about him being cornered by Rita Skeeter—although Tracey swore she hadn't told anyone—and between that and his crush on Arielle from Beauxbatons, Harry hadn't gotten a moment of peace all week.

"Are you coming with?" Harry asked Tracey as they finally reached the small village. She shook her head.

"I'm going to the shops," she replied. "Enjoy, though."

As Harry broke away from the group, he ignored the jeers of "Going to see your girlfriend, Potter?" and the whistles, not noticing the grey eyes that followed his every move.

When Harry disappeared from sight, Draco shook his head. This was getting ridiculous. He needed to stop watching Potter. It wasn't right and he knew it. However, he couldn't help himself. It was amazing that Harry hadn't noticed it yet, proving just how oblivious he was.

A group from Beauxbatons passed by and Draco turned his gaze toward the girls, nodding in agreement and forcing an appreciative smile on his face. Maybe he could ask one of them out on a date.

The Three Broomsticks was filled with students when Harry entered the shop. He looked around, looking for his godfather, who had contacted him on Thursday to ask if they could meet up. Harry had agreed and now he was trying to fight his way through the crowd to get to Sirius. The pub was more crowded than usual, as the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were also allowed to visit the village on the weekends.

"Hey," he said, when he finally pushed through the throng of students. "What's up?"

"I can't spend time with my godson?" Sirius asked, pretending to be hurt. Harry rolled his eyes.

"You just made it sound like you had something specific to tell me," he said. "So what is it?"

"Snape wrote us a letter about some problems you've been experiencing," Sirius said. Harry grimaced.

"It was just a one-time thing," he said. "Nothing came out of it and I didn't say anything to her."

Sirius gave his godson a pitying look. "It's never a one-time thing with Skeeter," he explained. "Once she's got her claws in you, she won't release you until your reputation has been thoroughly destroyed for a few years."

Harry groaned. He was not looking forward to having to deal with her again and he was sure that she would be around for the tasks of the Triwizard Tournament. Sirius continued.

"So, the Davises and I intervened and got you a restraining order against her. She's not allowed to talk to you or come within 30 meters of you and your friends. She's also not allowed to interview you or write anything about what you said or did."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. "Will it work?" he asked. Sirius shrugged.

"It's worth a try," he said. "Now, what's new at Hogwarts besides the Triwizard Tournament?"

For the rest of the morning, Harry hung out with Sirius in the Three Broomsticks, enjoying the time away from Hogwarts and the other students. He had friends in the school but he also needed to be away from them after a while. Otherwise he would get tired and easily irritated for no reason.

"Are you going to be at the first task?" he asked as they got ready to leave after an early lunch. Sirius shook his head.

"Only the schools, judges, and Ministry employees will be present at the first two tasks," he responded. "So write me and tell me all about it. I bet it's going to be thrilling."

Harry nodded before pushing his way back out of the pub. He was only a few steps out the door when he heard someone calling after him.

"Harry! Harry!"

The fourteen-year-old turned back and saw Hermione rushing after him.

"Hi, Hermione," he said. "How's it going?"

"Are you heading back to the castle?" Hermione asked, ignoring the greeting. Harry nodded in reply. "Can I join you?"

Harry nodded again.

"What do you think of this whole Triwizard Tournament business?" he asked as they began their journey back.

"It should be interesting," Hermione replied. "I'm glad that they're promoting international cooperation between schools. It's very important to encourage it while we're still young, I think, and it'll be nice to make friends with students from other countries and cultures."

Harry resisted the urge to laugh. He should have expected Hermione would have an answer like that.

"E'scuse me, but do you know where zee pub iz?"

Harry and Hermione glanced at the group of Beauxbatons students that were about to pass them.

"Er, d-down the r-road and to the…to the left," Harry replied, stumbling over his words when he noticed that Arielle was the one that had spoken to them. Arielle nodded in thanks and took off with her group. Harry watched her go, cheeks flushing red when he turned back and noticed Hermione looking at him with a knowing look.

"Don't say anything," he muttered as he continued walking back to the castle.

"I wasn't going to," Hermione replied, easily keeping pace. The rest of the walk back to the castle was spent mostly in silence. Harry was too embarrassed to look at Hermione but if he had, he would have noticed the almost melancholy look on her face.

Hermione Granger tried not to think about what had happened in the village. She was used to things like that happening. Everyone always wanted to talk to her friends and never to her. Every boy was interested in girls but never her.

Hermione had hoped that Harry was different and for a while it had seemed like he was, but now she knew that he really wasn't. He had found someone else to be interested in and only talked to her when there was no one else to talk to.

The Gryffindor girl sighed. It seemed that she was just destined to live a lonely life.


	34. Year 4: Part 9

When the morning of the first task dawned, Harry was inadvertently awakened by his roommates. He groaned at the early hour, wondering what had possessed his yearmates into waking up so early.

Then he remembered the first task. Classes had been cancelled for the afternoon so the entire school could watch and hopefully celebrate afterwards. Hopefully. Provided that one of the champions didn't get killed.

No student knew what the first task was going to entail and they wouldn't until they were seated in the stands. The professors and the Ministry officials had gone to great lengths to keep it secret. Harry was personally amazed that word hadn't gotten out yet. It was almost unheard of in a school the size of Hogwarts.

With the amount of chatter and gossip that went on during the morning classes, Harry wondered if the professors shouldn't have just cancelled classes for the entire day. No one was able to focus, which led to rising frustrations among the professors, especially those that had scheduled practical lessons. The only professor that had any sort of success in teaching that day had been Professor Snape, to no one's surprise.

When classes let out at midday, Harry broke away from his fellow students as they ambled down to the Quidditch pitch. There was nothing that said that the students had to sit by house for this.

Harry quickly spotted Hagrid in the growing mass of spectators and went to go sit next to him. Besides the Care of Magical Creatures classes, he hadn't talked with the man much this year.

"Hey Hagrid," he said as he sat down. Hagrid beamed widely at him.

"Good to see yeh, Harry," he said in greeting. "Excited ter see the first task?"

Harry shrugged. "I'd be more excited if I knew what I would be watching," he admitted. To his surprise, Hagrid's grin widened.

"It's goin' ter be a good one," he said. "Dragons."

Harry blinked, wondering if he had heard the larger man wrong. "Sorry, but did you say dragons?" he asked in disbelief. Hagrid nodded.

"Brought in three mothers las' night," he explained. "Got ter see them meself. Marvelous lookin' creatures, they are."

Harry glanced around at the Quidditch pitch and spectator stands, which were made up of mostly wood. He was starting to get the feeling that he would have rather stayed in bed, away from dragons and their fire-breathing mouths. It was a good thing that he was under the age of seventeen and couldn't have entered the tournament. He probably would have died within the first few minutes.

"Don' worry," Hagrid assured him, catching his worried looks. "The Ministry people got spells an' charms put up all over. Nothin' can get through the protective shields they put up."

Harry didn't really feel reassured. At least he was near an aisle and an exit, making a quick escape easier if one was needed.

The Slytherin looked around, trying to find his yearmates. Tracey, Pansy, and the other fourth year girls were sitting across the pitch in one of the top rows, well out of the wind. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle had grabbed first row seats and were practically leaning over the edge of the banner. Harry looked away as he cringed. Theodore and Blaise were in a throng of older Slytherins, looking around as well.

"Hagrid!"

Harry turned his gaze forward at the familiar voice. He watched Hermione and Neville approach him and Hagrid, no doubt aiming for the two open spots in the row in front of him. Neville looked startled to see Harry sitting in Hagrid's shadow but he said nothing as he sat down. He had learned in the past few weeks that Harry would tolerate his presence, unlike other Slytherins.

"Did you hear what the task is going to be?" Harry asked them. He wasn't surprised when they shook their heads but before he could say anything else, Professor McGonagall's voice rang above the crowd.

"Students, I ask that you remain seated while we bring in the obstacles that the champions will face. Do not be alarmed at seeing them, as everything is under control. Please refrain from screaming, as we don't want to alarm or provoke the dragons."

Hermione and Neville glanced at Harry in surprise.

"Did she say d-dragons?" Neville asked. Harry nodded and turned his attention on the people on the ground, watching as they brought in the first dragon. It was the first time he had seen a fully-grown dragon and he was stunned by how small the creature was. It couldn't have been more than twenty or twenty-five feet long.

Somehow, he had been expecting something bigger.

The dragon was an ugly mixture of grey and blue but the hideous color didn't distract from the dangerous beauty that all dragons seemed to have.

"Swedish Short-Snout," Hagrid informed the three students. "From Sweden. They live in teh mountains usually an' are quick flyers."

"They're incredibly dangerous," Hermione muttered in a worried voice. "I've read that the flames that they breathe are some of the hottest of all dragons. What happens if it tries to attack the audience with its flames?"

Neville shuddered at the thought as Professor McGonagall made another announcement.

"Each dragon has a nest of eggs," she explained. "In each nest there is a golden egg. It will be the champions' task to retrieve the egg. The champion that retrieves the egg in the quickest amount of time or the most skill will be the winner of this task. The marks for each champion will be displayed at the end of their turn. The placement in each task will give them a certain amount of points, which will be added at the start of the third task and determine which champion will proceed first."

The students watched the dragon and its handlers for a few minutes, before Professor Dumbledore stood up at the front of the judges' table.

"Our first champion will be coming out momentarily," he announced. "Once the whistle sounds."

There was a brief pause and then the whistle sounded. Harry leaned forward, trying to see which champion had been selected to deal with the Swedish Short-Snout.

It was the Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory. Judging by the panicked look on his face, he seemed to have no clue what to do.

The students of Hogwarts immediately began cheering for their champion, the Hufflepuffs cheering the loudest of all. Harry glanced down at Draco and noticed that he, along with Crabbe and Goyle, was no longer dangling over the edge of the stands.

The dragon advanced on Cedric. Harry could see the flames gathering around the edges of its jaws as it drew in a large breath and prepared to roar.

"Duck!" the entire crowd seemed to roar. "Duck!"

But Cedric did no such thing. He seemed to snap out of his surprise upon seeing the dragon and cast a charm at a nearby rock. In a blink of an eye, it had turned into a dog, which started running around the dragon's feet.

"Tryin' ter distract it, I imagine," Hagrid muttered. "Smart."

"As long as it keeps working," Harry mumbled as he watched the dragon try to stomp on the dog with her large feet. He winced as he saw a few of the eggs in the nest get crushed.

Cedric attempted to get around the dragon and into the nest to steal the golden egg—Harry could just barely see it glimmering in the nest—but when he was only a few feet away, the dragon caught sight of him again. Her jaws lunged at him and Harry closed his eyes, unable to watch anymore. Hermione let out a terrified shriek, joined by several other students.

"Narrow miss by the dragon there—very narrow miss!" For the first time, Harry realized that Cedric's actions were being described by one of the Ministry judges, someone Harry recognized as the announcer at the Quidditch World Cup.

Harry opened up his green eyes a crack and sighed in relief as he saw Cedric still alive and carrying the golden egg. The boy's right side was burnt and his clothes were on fire but at least he was still alive.

As soon as the egg was in Cedric's arms, the handlers were in the ring and in the process of stunning the dragon.

Once Cedric was out of the ring, the marks were shown by the judges. There was nothing higher than a seven. The Durmstrang headmaster gave Cedric the lowest score—a three.

"Took off points fer crushin' the actual eggs, I imagine," Hagrid mentioned. "And fer getting injured. Not a whole lot o' preparation the boy had."

"How could he?" Hermione asked. "The task was a secret from everyone, including the students."

Hagrid muttered something into his beard but didn't answer her question. Harry assumed that the man knew more than what he was letting on.

As the marks were shown, the Swedish Short-Snout was taken out and the second dragon was led in. Harry looked at Hagrid for information on this new breed.

"Welsh Green," Hagrid declared. "The one that got this one is lucky. They can be really sweet if train'd righ'."

Harry, Hermione, and Neville all stared at the new dragon in slight disbelief. It was smaller than the first one but not by very much. However, with its roaring, baring of teeth, and wing flapping, it looked anything but sweet.

The whistle was blown and the crowd was quickly informed of which champion was coming out to face the dragon. "Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons!"

Unlike Cedric, she didn't look surprised to see a dragon before her. In fact, she almost looked a little bored. Before the dragon could spot her and even think of attacking, she waved her wand, casting a charm. A loud shriek emitted from her wand, followed by a quick series of squawks and roars. The sound continued as she continued to hold up her wand.

"What's that noise?" Hermione demanded, covering her ears. A majority of the spectators in the stand were doing the same.

"A dragon's lullaby," Hagrid declared. "Design'd to put dragons ter sleep! The babies are sung ter sleep by their mot'ers and it works for the res' of their lives."

It was definitely effective, Harry noticed, despite the pain it caused for human ears. The dragon was asleep within a minute. The Delacour girl approached the dragon confidently, wand in the air to continue the charm. Within a few minutes, she grabbed the golden egg and started her retreat. Fleur was nearly in the clear but just before she could cross the barrier to safety, the dragon let out a ferocious snore, breathing flames in the process. A group of students screamed as Fleur's clothing caught fire but contrary to everyone's expectations, the Beauxbatons' champion didn't even bat an eyelash as she put out the flames with a bit of water from her wand.

Unfortunately, the usage of the second of the spell cancelled the dragon's lullaby and the Welsh Green began to stir. It was a good thing Fleur was so close to the safety barrier and could cross it with a few steps, Harry realized, because if she had been further away, it could have been very dangerous.

"Well done," the announced cried. "Very well done. It doesn't look like she sustained any injuries whatsoever! Absolutely amazing!"

"She had to known she was facing a dragon," Hermione muttered. "She just had to."

"So?" Harry asked. Hermione turned to look at him with an appalled expression on her face.

"So?" she repeated. "So? That meant that she cheated somehow! The champions weren't supposed to know what their task was before this morning. I highly doubt that she just happened to know what the charm for a dragon's lullaby was off the top of her head."

Harry shrugged. "Hagrid knew," he pointed out. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Sure, make excuses for her cheating," she snapped, "just because she's a pretty face. Boys—you're all the same."

Harry was about to make a biting retort but Neville spoke first.

"She's not that pretty." His words seemed to mollify Hermione for a bit and she turned to watch the judges give out their marks. They were higher than Cedric's, Harry realized, and Fleur received a ten from the headmistress of Beauxbatons. Hermione gave a derisive snort and rolled her eyes, muttering something that sounded like, "Typical."

The only champion left was Viktor Krum, from Durmstrang. This time the speculation wasn't about which champion was going to face the next dragon but rather, which species of dragon was next and how Krum was going to defeat it. Had he known about the dragons ahead of time and had time to prepare, like Fleur? Or was he going in unaware, like Cedric?

When the red-scaled dragon was led in, Harry, Neville, and Hermione turned to Hagrid, who beamed. He was glad that his studying and reading about dragons had finally paid off and that there was finally someone willing to listen to him.

"Chinese Fireball," he told the trio. "It's the biggest they brought fer the firs' task an' it's very nasty. They don't mind their own kind bu' they don't like humans."

Harry thought that despite its reputation, the Chinese Fireball was the most attractive of all the dragons they had seen that afternoon.

When Krum came out at the whistle, he came out firing off spells and hexes. It seemed that, like Fleur, he was aware of the dragons and had time to prepare. Unlike the two champions before him, he had speed on his side. Despite looking clumsy and hunched when off of his broom, he was surprisingly fast on his feet.

The dragon roared in frustration as its flames kept missing its target and it glared down at Krum, trying to get a good eye on the human. The move gave the Durmstrang champion his opening and he sent a spell straight into the dragon's eye.

The unexpected pain distracted the creature and it tilted its head upward as it began to stomp out its pain. Krum ran for the nest and the egg and the entire stadium screamed as he ran between the thrashing legs and tail of the dragon. Even Harry's grip on the seat under him tightened as he watched the Quidditch player's daring moves.

"Ooh…that's not good! A few of the actual eggs got smashed. That'll cost him points, I bet! Very brave though!"

The dragon was still roaring and stomping in pain when Krum emerged from the nest, the golden egg under his arm. He didn't bother to glance at the dragon, instead running straight for the safety barrier.

"And that's the fastest time of all our champions!" the announcer shouted. "Spectacular! Absolutely amazing! It shows that our celebrity champion isn't just fast on his broom!"

When the last dragon was out of the Quidditch pitch, Harry released his grip on his seat and looked around. The judges were releasing their marks. As the announcer had predicted, Krum's marks were lower than they could be but they were only a point or two lower than Fleur's. The Durmstrang headmaster gave his own champion a ten, giving Krum a slight advantage.

After a few minutes of adding up all the points, there was one last announcement.

"And the points stand thus—Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons is in first place. Trailing by only two points, Viktor Krum from Durmstrang in second place! And finally in third place, Cedric Diggory from Hogwarts! Well played, champions, well played."

"Well played?" Harry asked. "They weren't playing around out there!"

His words went unheard as the announcements continued.

"The second task will take place on February twenty-fourth. The clue to the second task is held within the champions' golden eggs, so it's a good thing that all of the champions retrieved their eggs! Good luck champions!"

Shortly after the announcements finished, Harry fought his way to the Slytherin section of the stand, where he figured he could meet up with others from his house. Unfortunately, he was going in the opposite way everyone else was trying to go, so he was fighting against the crowd. After a few minutes of only traveling a few feet, Harry was relieved to see some of his yearmates approaching him.

"That was exciting," Tracey said as she grabbed Harry by his elbow and pulled him along with her. "Didn't you think so?"

"Thrilling," Harry commented. "Especially the last bit."

"I wonder what the clue to the second task is," Tracey said. "Pity that no one from Slytherin was chosen, otherwise we could have found out."

Pansy, walking on Tracey's other side, rolled her eyes. "We'd have a better chance than Diggory," she sneered. "His performance was pitiful and if he couldn't figure out how to handle a simple dragon, I highly doubt he'll know how to handle whatever's in the second task."

"Be nice," Harry muttered to Pansy. "He's still the Hogwarts champion, even if he's not in Slytherin. We should at least appear to support him."

"You're not supporting your own champion?" a familiar voice asked him from behind. "Who are you supporting then, Mr. Potter?"

Harry stopped in his tracks and turned to face Rita Skeeter, who was holding a piece of parchment and a quill. His halting also caused Tracey and Pansy to stop. He frowned at her appearance. Now that he knew who she was and what she was capable of, he could handle her.

"You're not allowed to talk to me," he reminded her. "Or come anywhere near me. You're not allowed to write anything that I say, remember?"

Rita frowned. "Whatever do you mean?" she asked. Harry rolled his green eyes.

"I know about the restraining order," he said. "And I can have my guardians press charges, if you like, for not heeding it. Reporters are supposed to report the news, not be it."

Rita sneered at the last comment before turning around to find some other victim.

"That could have been handled better," Pansy remarked. "You shouldn't have been so openly hostile."

"I wanted to let her know that she doesn't scare me," Harry said. "And I don't think that subtly works very well with her."

"But you shouldn't make her your enemy," Pansy warned. "She can be vicious when provoked and I doubt a restraining order will keep her away for very long. She can destroy your reputation in a heartbeat if she wants."

Harry shrugged. "I don't care," he replied. "I don't care what the rest of the world thinks about me."

"That iz very brave of you," a melodious voice remarked from in front of them. A dark head turned and looked back at the three Slytherins. Harry's cheeks heated up when he realized that Arielle and her Beauxbatons friends had heard everything he had been saying and he quickly stuttered out a thanks before the crowd pushed around him and the two groups were separated.

Pansy sniffed. "I don't like the look of her," she declared.

"Why?" Harry demanded, feeling defensive. Pansy glanced at the direction that the Beauxbatons' girls had gone.

"She didn't sound that sincere," she said. "I'd be careful around her if I were you."


	35. Year 4: Part 10

The next few weeks flew by quickly and soon the events of the first task where eclipsed by something that everyone could participate in if they wanted to—the Christmas holidays.

Nearly all of Slytherin House had decided to stay for the first few days of the holidays, already aware of the upcoming Yule Ball. The morning after the Yule Ball, there would be a special train for those students that still wanted to go home and see their families for the new year.

Harry and Tracey would be among those students leaving the morning after and they wouldn't return until the weekend before the new term started. Harry wasn't sure which he was more anxious about—actually going home for the holidays for the first time or finding someone to take to the Yule Ball.

It seemed so simple for everyone else. Most of his yearmates had already picked out their dates and had treated asking them out like it was a simple business transaction. Even those that hadn't asked anyone had an idea of whom they would be going with. The majority of them had just asked their fellow yearmates since they knew that they probably wouldn't get dates from students in the other houses and most of them assumed that the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be going with the older Slytherins.

"I don't see what such the big deal is," Draco snapped when he overheard Harry mention his issue about asking Arielle to the Yule Ball. The blonde had been more irritable than usual since the Yule Ball had become an everyday conversation heard in the halls. "Just ask her to go with you. It's not that hard."

"Says the one who hasn't asked anyone yet," Harry replied, sounding equally as irritated. "Why is that again?"

Draco leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Because I already know that who I'm going to ask is going to say yes. Therefore I don't need to ask her immediately."

"Lucky you," Harry grumbled.

"It's not like she's going to say no," Blaise said, deciding to join the conversation. "She's already shown interest in you and, in case you've forgotten, you're Harry Potter."

"But if that's the only reason she's agreeing, you might want to reconsider," Tracey muttered from her place next to the fire, flipping to the next page in her book. Harry rolled his eyes, starting to get used to these types of comments. Tracey was convinced that Arielle was only interested in him because of his fame.

Instead of replying, Harry got to his feet. Class was done for the afternoon but there were still a few hours before dinner. Maybe he would get lucky and figure out a solution to his problem while walking the halls.

"Just remember it's not that hard," Blaise said as he left.

"Also remember that there's a three year age difference between you and her," Tracey muttered. "Just remember."

Instead of remaining in the dungeons, Harry decided to head up to the more central locations that students tended to hang out. While the December weather was cold, there were still groups of students that tended to congregate in the halls around the courtyards of the school. There were even a few brave enough to venture outside but Harry wasn't one of those few.

Most of the students mingling in the hallways were groups of girls. They eyed the smaller amount of boys with interest, boys who looked just as nervous as Harry felt.

Good, so he wasn't the only one.

Harry barely paid any attention to the Hogwarts girls despite the fact that a few of them eyed him with interest. They weren't who he was looking for.

"'Ello."

Harry whipped around in slight surprise to see Arielle walking toward him. He wasn't surprised that she was around—she seemed to be everywhere recently—but he was stunned that she had taken the initiative to speak to him.

"Er, hi," he said and winced inwardly when he realized how stupid he sounded. "How are you?"

Arielle sniffed. "This English weather iz very cold," she replied. "Nothing at all like the south of France."

"Are you going home for the holidays?" Harry asked. "Are any students from Beauxbatons going home?"

Arielle shook her head. " _Non_ ," she replied. "We are all staying for the ball."

The ball. Harry gave an awkward cough at the mention of it. He supposed that this would be the best time to ask Arielle.

"Are—Are you going with anyone to the ball yet?" he asked hesitantly. Arielle shook her head again.

" _Non._  Not yet."

Her answer made Harry feel even more nervous. If she had said yes, he could have just nodded and fled the scene. Now, however, he had to actually continue talking.

"Same here." There was an awkward pause before Harry took a deep breath. "So, since you aren't going with anyone yet and I'm not going with anyone yet…do you—err, do you want to maybe go together?"

Even Harry was aware of how stupid he sounded at the current moment. That's why it was a huge surprise when Arielle's face brightened and she smiled widely.

" _Oui,_ of course," she said. "It will be very fun, yes?"

Harry nodded, smiling in relief. That was less painful than he had expected. "Great," he replied. "Shall we meet in the Great Hall a few minutes before?"

Arielle nodded. "I will see you 'en," she said before turning around. "I have to go now and meet my friends. 'Ey will be very excited to hear that I am going to the ball with the Boy-Who-Lived,  _non_?"

Before Harry could respond to her comment, Arielle had darted away, joining up with a small group of Beauxbatons girls heading towards the carriage. Almost immediately they began giggling and chatting loudly in French. Harry shook his head and decided not to dwell on her parting words. It probably meant nothing.

Instead, the fourteen-year-old began to head back to the Slytherin common room. His yearmates would be much more bearable now that he could say that he also had a date.

He was a few corridors away when he spotted Draco and Pansy turn the corner. Pansy looked upset and Harry quickly darted into a small study room before either of them could spot him. Pansy wouldn't be happy to hear that he was taking Arielle to the Yule Ball. She still didn't like the French girl.

"Are you going to ask me or not?" he heard Pansy snap as the pair passed the study rooms. "You and Harry are the only ones that haven't asked anyone yet and it's starting to get embarrassing, Draco."

"Why do I need to ask you?" Draco replied. "We already know that we're going together. Why do I need to even ask?"

"Because it's the polite thing to do," Pansy hissed. "And while you're at it, tell me what's wrong with you this year. You've been acting very strange and it's starting to get annoying."

"It's nothing that you need to concern yourself with," Draco said. Before Pansy could reply, Harry heard Draco ask, "Would you go to the Yule Ball with me, Pansy?"

"Finally," Pansy muttered. "And yes."

"Good. Now let's go back to the common room," Draco said. "I don't understand why it was necessary to drag me outside just for this conversation."

Pansy's reply wasn't heard because the pair had begun to walk away. Harry waited a few moments after he could no longer hear any voices before ducking out of the study room and continuing his journey back to the common room.

Over the next few days, Harry spent a lot of time in the Slytherin common room, playing Exploding Snap and Gobstones with his yearmates. His homework had been finished on the first day of break and he didn't have to worry about it until after the New Year.

When Christmas morning dawned, Harry was lying awake, unable to sleep. He had been up for the better part of the night, thinking of everything that may go wrong during the Yule Ball. What if he looked like a fool, especially while dancing? What if he tripped and fell on his face? Or what if he spilled something on Arielle? By the time morning came around, Harry was positive that he had thought of almost every scenario that could possibly occur during the ball.

He was relieved when the others in his room began to wake up. They would help take his mind off of tonight.

Once everyone was awake, presents were opened up. Harry didn't have as many presents as Draco or Theodore, who always competed for who received the most presents, but the number that he received each year was constantly growing.

Harry hadn't received anything from Tracey or her parents—they were going to exchange gifts the following day at home—but he had ended up getting sweets from Hagrid and most of his yearmates, a book on dating from Sirius (Harry would need to remember to get Tracey back for telling people about his personal life), and an unmarked package.

The unmarked package turned out to be a wand holster. Taped to the top of the box was a small note that read,

_In case of an emergency where you need to get away, tap your wand against the band and say "Portus"_

Harry's eyebrows rose as he read the familiar writing. So the wand holster doubled as an emergency Portkey.

He had expected a present from Professor Snape but this type of present made him nervous. It suggested that something might be happening in the near future that would give him reason to use it. He knew that there was a risk of Voldemort coming back but was that risk much higher than he had guessed? After all, why would he have received such a present if there would be no need to use it at least once?

Frowning, Harry put on the wand holster. At least it was something he could use and wear everyday without being questioned. No one ever questioned a wand holster like they would question the sudden appearance of something like a ring or a pendant.

At least the present had the added benefit of taking Harry's mind off of the Yule Ball until it was time to get ready. Getting ready didn't take very long but it brought back all of Harry's original nerves from that morning. He was even more nervous when he realized that he would have to leave earlier than the rest of his yearmates.

Arielle was waiting for him near the entrance to the Great Hall, looking exquisite in pale green dress robes. Harry swallowed nervously at the sight of her.

"Hi," he managed to say. "You….you look nice." Inwardly he kicked himself at how idiotic he sounded. Thankfully, Arielle didn't seem to mind.

"Thank you," she said. "You do az well, of course."

They stood in silence for a few seconds, each waiting for the other to say something. The doors opened and Harry nearly sagged in relief.

"Shall we go in?" he asked. That would give them something to do in the next few minutes and hopefully it would give Harry some time to think up things to talk about.

As they entered the redecorated Great Hall, Arielle was quick to lead Harry over to a table that was quickly filling up with other pairs from Beauxbatons. Harry's heart sank as he realized that he probably wouldn't have his housemates to help him out if the conversation turned to uncomfortable topics.

The fourteen-year-old reddened under the stares he received from a few of the girls and guys that were already sitting but luckily none of them said anything—at least not that they could understand. Much of the current conversation was in French, with phrases here and there in English.

When the table of twelve was completely full, Harry was at least relieved to see that he wasn't the only Hogwarts student at the table. There was also a Hufflepuff seventh year and Ravenclaw that was in either fifth or sixth year.

"It must be very difficult for you 'ere at 'Ogwarts," Arielle said, deciding that she was done waiting for Harry to start the conversation. "E'eryone in France was very surprised to hear zat you attended 'Ogwarts instead of another school or being 'ome-schooled."

Harry blinked at the statement. "Why would I have been home-schooled?" he asked. "I'm just a regular student. And I thought that Hogwarts was the only school for English students."

"You could 'ave gone to Beauxbatons or a school in another country," Arielle explained. "We in France did not think zat the schoolwork at 'Ogwarts would be up to the level for teaching the Boy-Who-Lived. We thought zat you would be given a more specialized education."

"I'm just a regular student," Harry repeated. "Up until this year, I never had to worry about that stuff. If it hadn't been for Rita Skeeter, it probably wouldn't have been an issue."

"You must have been jealous with the arrival of Viktor Krum," Arielle said, as if she hadn't heard him. "And all of the attention zat he is getting."

Harry shook his head. "Not really, no."

He should have known. That first conversation set the tone for the rest of the meal. Every time Harry thought that they were about to have a normal conversation that couldn't be turned back to talking about his fame, Arielle would always find some way to bring it up again.

It was some sort of skill. An annoying one but a skill nonetheless. Harry wondered that if anyone would notice if he slipped under the table to hide.

By the time dessert came around, Harry had stopped trying to carry on any conversations and was only using one-word answers. It didn't seem to matter to Arielle. She could easily carry on a one-sided conversation.

At least Harry wasn't the only one struggling. The other two Hogwarts students at the table weren't able to maintain a conversation in English for more than a minute before the others went back to speaking in French.

Harry tried catching Tracey or Pansy's eyes a few times but they didn't seem to notice his efforts. He almost caught Daphne's attention but Theodore seemed to realize what he was trying to do and kept distracting Daphne.

Harry assumed it was payback for telling Tracey to go with Blaise instead of Theo. He didn't understand why it was such a big deal. Daphne was better suited for Theodore when it came to these types of events.

When the music started playing and the time for dancing began, Harry was willing to take Arielle on the dance floor despite knowing how awful he would look. Anything to get a break from talking about how famous he was.

After a few minutes, Harry excused himself to go to the bathroom. The dancing had helped but he quickly began feeling like a mess. As he left, Harry tried not to think about how Arielle hadn't looked disappointed when he left.

Harry splashed a handful of water on his face as he leaned over the sink in the bathroom. He was sweating from dancing and from the crowded Great Hall. He normally didn't mind the crowds but he was beginning to get overwhelmed. Harry suspected it had something to do with the blasting music.

He splashed another handful of water and glanced at himself in the mirror provided. He frowned at the sight of his messy hair. It had grown longer this year, making it messier than normal. He was also beginning to notice that it was a few shades darker than when he had first come to Hogwarts.

Harry sighed. He would have to ask Tracey to cut his hair at some point in the next few weeks.

The teenager didn't realize that there were others in the bathroom until he saw a flicker in the corner of the mirror.

Harry glanced over and his eyes landed on Draco Malfoy's form. The blond Slytherin washed his hands, unaware of Harry's presence. It was only when he went to dry his hands that he noticed the dark-haired teen.

"What do you want, Potter?" Draco demanded, voice sharper than intended. Harry shrugged.

"I didn't realize that anyone was in here," he explained. "Enjoying the night?"

Draco rolled his gray eyes.

"Could be better," he said. "My parents have thrown better parties."

"So this isn't your first?" Harry asked. Draco sighed.

"I've been to these types of parties since I was a toddler, Potter," he informed the boy irritably.

Harry's eyebrows rose in slight surprise at the edge in Draco's voice.

"You're irritable tonight," he commented and stepped closer to Draco to grab a towel to dry his face. Draco sneered in response but stopped suddenly when he realized how close he and Harry were in proximity to each other. His breaths became shorter and came quicker, though Harry didn't seem to notice.

Draco's body moved on its own accord. As Harry turned to discard the towel, Draco closed the space between them. Harry's eyes widened as he felt lips on his.

It wasn't even really a kiss, Harry would realize later. It was more of a peck or a brushing of lips. After a fraction of a second, Draco was pulling away and rushed out of the room. Harry stared after Draco before fleeing the bathroom as well, cheeks feeling like they were on fire.

Harry looked around in the corridor for Draco but didn't see him anywhere. Cheeks still red, Harry returned to the Great Hall, where the Yule Ball was still going on.

Harry scanned the crowded room for Arielle but she wasn't anywhere in sight. He sighed, not very surprised. The green-eyed boy stood awkwardly against the wall, searching for someone he knew, preferably one of his housemates. He kept an eye out for Draco but he doubted that the blond would have returned to the Great Hall after what had just happened. No doubt Draco had returned to the Slytherin common room.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Pansy waving him over. With another sigh, he approached the girl.

"Have you seen Draco anywhere?" she asked. Harry shook his head, hoping that he wouldn't start blushing again. Pansy sighed.

"He went to the washroom forever ago," she explained. Harry gave an awkward shrug.

"Maybe he isn't feeling well?" he suggested. Pansy glared at the nearest table.

"Or he's just being a prat because this isn't as good as his parents' parties," she growled. "And because he didn't really want to come in the first place. It was a pain to try and get him to even ask me."

"Have you seen-" Harry started to ask but Pansy shook her head.

"Don't," she recommended. "Don't bother with her anymore. I saw her talking up some boy from Durmstrang. She looked much more interested in him than she ever did in you."

Harry's cheeks flushed in humiliation.

"Really?" he asked. Pansy nodded.

"I'm sorry," she said. Harry shrugged.

"I guess I should have seen it coming," he mumbled. "I mean with her bringing up the fact that I was Harry Potter at dinner so often. It must have been just that which intrigued her."

"Could have been worse," Pansy said.

"How?" Harry asked.

"You could have gone out on a few more dates before realizing that," Pansy explained. "She could have waited until you became more infatuated with her."

The boy sighed.

"Want me to grab you something to drink?" he asked Pansy. "While you wait for Draco to show up?"

"Sure," Pansy agreed. "But Potter, if you ditch me..." She let her threat dangle between the two. Harry gave a meek nod. As he walked away, he began wondering why everyone was addressing him by his surname tonight.


	36. Year 4: Part 11

Supposedly the Yule Ball ended around midnight but Harry hadn't stuck around to the end. He had put off packing and without an official date, there was really no point in sticking around. Pansy had figured out that Draco wouldn't be returning and was happy to return to the common room in hopes of chewing him out if he was still awake.

She wasn't in luck. To Harry's surprise, Draco wasn't in the common room or in the dorm that they shared.

The train left the next morning at nine o'clock. The Great Hall was nearly dead as the students returning home for the New Year began to gather for a quick breakfast and wait for the carriages that would take them to the train.

"How was last night?" Tracey asked with a yawn as Harry grabbed a piece of toast off of her plate. Her only response was a small sigh and shake of a head before she frowned and grabbed back her piece of toast.

"Toast for gossip," she said, waving it in front of Harry's face. The boy glared at her before taking the toast back.

"Dinner was awful. I think she took every opportunity she could to talk about me being the Boy-Who-Lived," he said.

Tracey raised an eyebrow. "That bad?"

"She actually asked if I was jealous because Viktor Krum came and took away attention from me."

Tracey couldn't help but snort in laughter. Just the thought of Harry wanting attention was absurd. Harry rolled his eyes before stealing Tracey's entire plate from right in front of her.

"Give that back and get your own!" Tracey snapped, reaching for the plate.

"No," Harry replied, pulling it further out of her grasp. "You laughed at me."

Tracey pouted before continuing to probe for more information.

"What happened after dinner?"

"Went to the bathroom a few minutes after dancing," Harry explained. "When I came back, she was flirting with Viktor Krum. I ended up dealing with Pansy for the rest of the night."

"Granger probably wasn't happy about that," Tracey remarked. "But she must have been able to chase that Beauxbatons girl off. Granger and Krum were still dancing at midnight when I left."

"Good for her," Harry muttered as he finished off the plate of food.

"She was barely recognizable," Tracey said. "A few of the older students couldn't believe that Krum took a fourth year, let alone Granger of all people."

Harry gave her a questioning look. "She's a decent enough person for a Gryffindor."

"I don't doubt that," Tracey said. "But there were a few in our house that had a hard time believing that a Muggleborn managed to catch the eye of Viktor Krum."

"So what if he prefers brains over blood status?" Harry asked. "There are probably more important things to consider."

"Like finding a girl that doesn't care about how famous you are?" Tracey asked wryly. Harry glared at her.

* * *

A few hours later, the Hogwarts Express was entering London and Harry and Tracey were getting their things arranged for easy transportation in the station.

"So what are you going to tell Mom and Dad or Sirius if they ask how things are going with that girl?" Tracey asked.

"Probably just that we didn't get on well once we had a few conversations," Harry said with a sigh, ignoring Tracey's mutter of "More like just one conversation."

"I suppose I should thank you eventually for not saying, "I told you so", at least to my face." Harry said. Tracey smirked.

"Why would I need to say it when you already know what I'm thinking. It's too redundant."

Harry rolled his eyes as the train stopped. A quick levitating charm on his and Tracey's trunk and they were leaving the compartment.

"Are we apparating home?" Harry asked. "Or flooing?"

Tracey shook her head. "Dad got a Ministry car to drive us back. I'm not sure why exactly, since it's going to take longer to get home that way."

Harry shrugged. He personally was happy that it was a car, since he still hadn't gotten used to the magical means of transportation.

The platform was a lot emptier than what Harry was used to seeing. Only about a tenth of the students at Hogwarts were returning home for the New Year. The lack of students and families made finding Tracey's parents easier.

"Oh my god," Tracey said as she spotted her parents. "Oh my god!"

Harry blinked and tried to ignore the sudden twist in his gut. "Well I guess that's why we're taking a car," he stated but even to him, his voice sounded weak.

"Surprise," Catherine said as she approached the teenagers. She hugged both of them but the baby bump made it a bit awkward.

"You never said anything!" Tracey said, looking astonished. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"We wanted it to be a surprise," her father replied. "We didn't find out until after you left for Hogwarts and since we knew that you'd be coming back for the holidays, we decided that it would be your Christmas surprise."

"When is it going to be born? Is it a girl or a boy?" Tracey demanded as they left the platform for the Muggle side and began to walk towards the station entrance where the Ministry car was waiting.

Zach and Catherine chuckled at her enthusiasm but Zach took a glance at Harry, who had remained silent for the most part. It was difficult to tell what the boy was thinking but the one thing Zach was able to notice was that the boy was nowhere near as excited about the news as Tracey was.

Well, it was to be expected.

"It's going to be a girl," Catherine told her daughter. "A baby sister. She'll be born in the end of April if she's not like you and insists on barreling into the world earlier than expected."

Harry smirked at the tidbit of information.

* * *

The drive didn't take as long as expected. Harry wasn't really paying attention to the driving but he was fairly positive that the Ministry car had some special features that made managing traffic in the city easier.

"Go help your mother set up for lunch," Zach ordered Tracey once they had arrived home. "Harry and I will put away your trunks."

Tracey nodded before following her mother in the kitchen. Harry gave Zach a curious look, realizing that something was up.

"So what are your thoughts about this?" Zach asked once they were away from the living and dining areas. "About the baby coming?"

Harry didn't know how to respond to that question yet so he just shrugged.

"Congratulations?" he said. "It must be exciting for you."

For you. That's what Zach was worried about.

"But it's not exciting for you?" he asked. Harry gaped at him before shrugging again.

Zach clapped Harry on the shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It won't change anything," he told the boy. "You're like a son to Catherine and I and even if the baby coming was a boy, you would still be considered a son to us. You'll always be welcome here."

Harry only nodded, starting to feel overwhelmed. He hadn't expected any of this—not the baby, nor this particular conversation. With the combination of last night's events, it was beginning to be too much for him to handle.

"Catherine and I have been talking," Zach continued. "It might take a while and you might already be of age when things would fall into place, but if you want…we would gladly adopt you."

Harry's jaw dropped open and he was struck speechless. He was spared from trying to answer by Tracey calling across the house to them to inform them that it was time for lunch. Harry began to walk away, mind racing.

Adoption? He had never even considered that the Davis family would want to adopt him. He had always thought that he was just someone that they were willing to take in because they had the extra room and because Professor Snape had requested it.

Professor Snape.

How would he react if Harry was to be adopted by Zach and Catherine Davis? He was Harry's father, even if they didn't have the typical father-son relationship. They didn't live together and the entire matter was surrounded in secrecy—even Harry felt like he didn't know everything about the situation—but Harry still felt he could go to the man if he was having any problems or just needed to talk. He knew that his father would do anything to keep him safe, even if it compromised their relationship together.

Harry rubbed his scar. This was too complicated for him to handle.

The matter preoccupied Harry's thoughts for the rest of the visit. He was amazed that Tracey hadn't seemed to notice anything odd about the way he was acting. If she had, she hadn't said anything.

It could have been because Tracey was acting a bit strangely herself. Ever since the first afternoon home, she had been more on the quiet side and prone to staying in her room instead of with the family.

Zach and Catherine didn't voice their concerns. If they wanted to address the tension in the house, they needed to determine whether it was because they had two teenagers in the house or because of the coming baby. Unfortunately, that determination couldn't be made with only the week that Harry and Tracey were at the house.

* * *

Near the end of the week, Harry was eager to return to Hogwarts but when he was on the train, he remembered what had happened shortly before he had left.

Draco.

There was already tension between them that had existed since first year but Harry knew that someone was bound to realize something was up if the tension between them had suddenly grown for no apparent reason. Harry had no intentions of telling anyone about what had happened in the bathroom but he wasn't really confident that he could get around answering direct questions. He still struggled with talking his way out of situations and always seemed to fall into the habit of staying silent when he wasn't sure how to respond.

Well, Harry would just act like nothing had happened and hopefully Draco would do the same. He had a feeling that the blonde would because if news got around the dorm or school, Draco had more to lose than he did.

Draco Malfoy didn't understand Harry Potter. If it had been anyone else, news would have been around the school right now or the information would have been used as blackmail. If Draco had been in Potter's shoes, he would have had no qualms about using the information to his advantage.

But Harry Potter hadn't.

And Draco didn't understand why.

The youngest Malfoy had given it a few days, expecting that Harry was just biding his time and waiting for the opportune moment to talk to Draco alone, but after a few of those moments had passed and nothing had happened, Draco decided to take matters into his own hands. It had been a week of nervous waiting and he was sick of it.

So he cornered Harry in the fourth year boys' dorm when everyone else was at lunch.

"What are you playing at, Potter?"

Harry turned to face Draco, looking confused.

"What are you on about?" he asked. "I'm not playing at anything as far as I know."

"You haven't said anything about what happened at the Yule Ball," Draco said. "Why not?"

Harry shrugged. "Because I don't care," he admitted. "I don't care about what's going on in your head. I have my own problems to worry about."

"So you have no intentions of doing anything with the information? You're not going to tell anyone or threaten to tell anyone?"

"No," Harry replied. "Are you going to let me go to lunch now? I'd like to eat before afternoon classes."

Draco sneered at him.

"Why do you have to be so damn ethical?" he demanded. "Anyone else would have tried to use the information to their advantage and I could have handled that. Why did you have to be so different?"

"Because friends don't tell their other friends' secrets," Harry stated. "And because I have plenty of things in my own life that I wouldn't want to be made public."

Harry turned around to pick up his bag but he glanced at Draco when the other boy made no reply. He found the blonde staring at him in disbelief.

"What?" he asked, irritated.

"You think I'm your friend?" Draco asked. Harry sighed.

"I see you every day, both inside and outside of classes. We talk, we eat, we tolerate each other. I think that qualifies you as a friend, even if we don't necessarily like each other all of the time. I don't like Pansy or Blaise all of the time, but I still consider them my friends."

Draco sneered again. "You have low standards of friendship," he remarked.

"Probably because I didn't have any before I came to Hogwarts," Harry stated. "Be thankful, though."

"Why?"

"Because if I didn't have such low standards, who else would be your friend?"

Draco threw a pillow in Harry's direction. "Go to hell."

"I don't know how to get there, so I'm going to lunch instead. Are you coming?"

* * *

If Harry thought things were going to get easier once he had talked to Draco, he was sorely mistaken. The conversation with Draco had only been the first of his problems.

Arielle was the second.

Going home after the Yule Ball had saved Harry from having to talk to her about what happened and he had hoped that some time away from Hogwarts and her would end his crush.

Of course, no one bothered to tell him that it wouldn't be that simple.

Arielle must not have known that Harry knew everything that had happened during the Yule Ball, because she seemed to be everywhere Harry turned, still as friendly as ever and trying to make her interest known. Every time Harry was alone or away from her, he was ready to tell her that the interest wasn't reciprocated any longer.

However, those words refused to come out of his mouth. Every time he saw her, Harry's mouth went dry and anything he had planned to say immediately flew out of his mind, to be replaced with thoughts about how pretty she looked and how adorable her smile and laugh were.

And Harry hated himself because of it.

"Is she still hanging around you?" Pansy asked when she spotted Arielle in the library, sitting only a few tables away from where she, Harry, and Daphne Greengrass were studying for Charms. The other Slytherins were still attempting to finish their History of Magic essays that were due the following day.

"Like a moth to a flame," Harry sighed, deliberately keeping his gaze down on the table and his homework. If he looked up, he wouldn't be able to focus until Arielle left.

"Don't try to be so Gryffindorish about this whole thing," Daphne remarked. "Otherwise, you're never going to fix this situation."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" Harry snapped. "I can't just carrying on doing or saying nothing."

"Go out with someone else," Pansy suggested. "That should get the message across plain and clear."

Go out with someone else? Why had that never occurred to Harry?

That's right. Because then he ran the risk of someone getting a crush on him when he didn't return the feeling and having to deal with that.

"It's too complicated," Harry replied.

"It's really not," Daphne stated. "Theo has the same situation all the time and I've helped him out in the past. I'm sure Pansy has done the same."

"No, I haven't," Pansy protested. "And I'm not going to start." She ended her statement with a glare in Harry's direction when he had looked up hopefully. Harry turned his gaze to Daphne, who winked.

"Seven weeks," she said. "That's how long it should take to get rid of her."

Harry nearly groaned. Seven weeks sounded like forever.

"That'll take us through Valentine's Day," he realized.

"Through the second task, to be exact," Daphne corrected.

"Won't anyone say anything about it?"

"Not if you're lucky," Pansy muttered. "No one ever said anything when it was Theo and Daphne. I don't think anyone in the house really noticed, to be honest."

"It's all about timing and location," Daphne said with a smirk. "We never acted differently when we were in the common room, because she was a Hufflepuff and wouldn't be able to see what happened. Though, I'm sure with you being Harry Potter, things will get around a bit more quickly and publicly."

Harry wanted to hang his head at the thought.

"It just means we have less to do to convince people," Daphne said. "Now ask nicely before I officially say yes."

Harry glared at her.

"Would you go out with me?" he asked through gritted teeth. Daphne smirked.

"So sweet," she remarked before gathering up her homework and putting her materials in her bag. Then she leaned over and gave Harry a peck on the cheek.

"We'll talk more about details back in the common room," she whispered in his ear before pulling away. Then, more loudly, she said, "Bye, boyfriend."

Harry's cheeks reddened as Daphne walked away, proudly smirking. He glanced over at Arielle.

The French brunette was staring after Daphne with a stunned expression. Harry glanced down at his homework once again before Arielle looked his way.

"Well, she's gone," Pansy said a few minutes later. "Looking stunned and horrified."

Harry didn't reply to that statement. Instead, he proposed an idea to Pansy.

"You should go out with Draco."

Pansy sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. An eyebrow rose and nearly disappeared into her bangs.

"Oh? Why?"

This was the tricky part. Harry hadn't thought this through all the way—he had seen an opportunity and taken it—and he would have to find a way to let Pansy to come to her own conclusions without saying anything outright.

"Let's just say that it would be beneficial for both of you," Harry began. "I'm sure neither of your families would mind and it would give Draco some peace of mind."

Pansy snorted. "What does he need peace of mind for? He doesn't need to be worried about anything."

"Except what people think of him and his family," Harry reminded her. "If he started dating you, he wouldn't be subject to certain…insults."

"Insults," Pansy said dryly. "What sort of—" Her eyes widened and Harry shrugged, hoping that she had caught on.

"Potter, are you implying…" she growled. Harry shook his head.

"I'm not implying or saying anything," he said. Pansy rolled her eyes.

"I'm not desperate," she stated. "Though, I wouldn't mind a guarantee of being with someone that doesn't want to do anything. If Draco really wants this  _peace of mind_ —as you put it—he'll have to ask me himself. Good luck convincing him to do that."

Harry glared at Pansy, who smirked. She knew that Draco wouldn't react well to that, especially when the blonde had no idea that Harry was even suggesting this idea in the first place.

Harry was fairly sure that Draco was going to kill him.

The dark-haired Slytherin waited until he and Draco ended up alone in the dormitory once again, while everyone was at breakfast. It was the only guarantee that they were truly alone, since all the dormitory rooms had been warded against eavesdroppers years ago. The corridors were too risky, since anyone could be hiding around a corner or behind a statue or wall hanging.

"I know I promised I wouldn't say anything and I haven't," Harry began, quickly drawing Draco's attention. "But have you ever considered dating someone and just letting everyone make their own assumptions?"

"The very idea is appalling," Draco replied. "And it would be a waste of time since a girl would start complaining about nothing happening. That would be even more damaging than not going out with anyone in the first place."

"Not all girls would complain," Harry pointed out. "Pansy wouldn't."

Draco dropped his bag to the floor. "And how the bloody hell would you know that?" he demanded.

"It came up when we were doing homework," Harry said. He had spent the night trying to figure out what he was going to say. "Daphne was offering to help me out of a situation and she mentioned that she wouldn't mind having a guarantee that nothing would happen."

Draco's gray eyes gazed into Harry's green ones, trying to determine if the truth was being told.

"I don't believe you," he finally said. Harry wasn't surprised.

"You don't have to," Harry replied. "Just keep in mind that if you start dating someone who wouldn't expect anything to happen—like Pansy—no one would ever consider that you might be gay."

Green eyes widened as a curse came flying at him.

"Don't use that word," Draco said in a stone cold voice. "Never use that word around me."

Harry watched the blonde carefully as Draco stormed out of the room. The conversation hadn't been as long as he planned it to be but Harry knew better than to push things now. Hopefully he had gotten his point across.

For the next few days, Draco pointedly gave Harry the cold shoulder. The only times that the blonde remained in the same room as Harry were during classes, meals, and when they were sleeping. At any other time, Draco ensured that they weren't in the same corridor, let alone the same room.

It didn't bother Harry too much. If Draco wanted to be mad at him, there wasn't anything that he could do to prevent it.

A few days later, Daphne plopped down on Harry's lap when he was studying in the library, watching a group of Beauxbatons' girls out of the corner of her eye.

"We should go on a double date during the next Hogsmeade weekend," she informed him.

"With who?" Harry asked absentmindedly. He was trying to figure out a way to write neatly without telling Daphne to move.

"Pansy and Draco," Daphne announced. Harry's hand jerked at the news and he sighed as a black line of ink crossed his entire sheet of parchment. He glanced up at Daphne, who didn't look sorry or sympathetic for causing the mistake.

"Well?" she asked. "What do you think?"

"Fine," Harry muttered as he tried to fix his piece of parchment without having to scrap the whole essay and start over. "Whatever you want."

"Fantastic," Daphne said. "I'm sure Pansy and Draco will be happy to hear that."


	37. Year 4: Part 12

Severus frowned as he went through the inventory of his personal supply room for potions ingredients. This was the third month in a row that ingredients had been missing.

The Potions master marked down the missing ingredients on his list, noting that it was the same ingredients that had been taken the other two months. In the same quantity, too.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. Someone was brewing polyjuice potion. The combination of the ingredients was distinct, even if the quantity had increased from the last time this had happened. Severus had experienced a similar situation two years ago, but it had only happened one month.

Not three in a row.

Everything else was in order, so Severus took his list and began the journey that would take him from the dungeons to Dumbledore's office. The headmaster needed to know that something was going on, even if he wasn't going to do anything.

Albus wasn't alone when Severus reached the headmaster's office. Alastor Moody was there as well. Just the sight of the ex-Auror made Severus consider turning around and coming back later. He didn't have the time to deal with Moody today.

"Ah, Severus, what can I do for you?"

Well, there was nothing he could do now.

"There is an issue that I must discuss with you privately, headmaster," Severus said coolly, dark eyes staying on Moody to make his point clear. The ex-Auror snorted and muttered something under his breath.

Albus sighed as Severus's eyes darkened even further. He had hoped that the two professors would learn to get along while working together—they needed to seeing as they were in the Order together and would be fighting alongside each other eventually—but they were intent on antagonizing each other at every opportunity that they had.

"Alastor, another time?" Moody nodded, his magical eye no longer swiveling but remaining on Snape's face. The ex-Auror stood and took his time leaving the room, his eye still not leaving the Potions' Master's face. Severus didn't bother to hide his sneer as the door closed.

"What is it, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. Severus didn't respond until he could sense privacy spells being activated as the door to the headmaster's office closed completely.

"Someone is brewing Polyjuice Potion in this school and is stealing from my stores to do so." There was no sense in beating around the bush. Albus enjoyed doing so but Severus had classes to prepare for.

As expected, Albus didn't seem terribly concerned over the issue. The older wizard merely nodded and pressed the tips of his fingers together under his chin, thinking carefully.

"Such as two years ago?" he asked. Severus nodded.

"This is the third month in a row," the dark-haired wizard remarked. "And no one has gotten the chance to go into my personal stores except for…"

Except for Alastor Moody, who insisted on checking Severus's personal stores every month to make sure that the ex-Death Eater wasn't brewing anything that was blatantly illegal or keeping ingredients for such potions. It was infuriating and humiliating. Sometimes Severus couldn't believe that Albus would allow such a thing but he couldn't make a large fuss about the issue. If Alastor was suspicious about Severus, the ex-Auror would look into the more recent past even further and might discover just what exactly had happened in the brief time Dumbledore had been gone from the school.

Severus still couldn't believe that there had been no mention of Harry Potter staying with the Davis family over the summer or over school breaks. Was the headmaster truly unaware of the change in guardianship or had he just stayed quiet, knowing that there was something more to the issue and waiting to confront Severus until he had all of the information?

"I highly doubt it's Alastor stealing from your stores," Dumbledore said. "There would be no need for him to brew Polyjuice and if it was needed, he would be able to get the ingredients from other sources."

"He's the only one with the opportunity," Severus stated. If Alastor Moody didn't trust him, he wouldn't trust the ex-Auror. Snape had seen too many Aurors abuse the power given to them by the Ministry and how quick the Ministry was to protect the Aurors from such claims of abuse. The system disgusted him and he wasn't afraid to state his opinions on the matter.

Albus sighed. He had one professor accusing another of still being a Death Eater and a traitor and the other professor was accusing the first of stealing. It was a situation where there would be no winners.

* * *

The weekend before the second task was a Hogsmeade weekend and for once, Harry was not looking forward to going to the village. Why?

Daphne and Pansy were insisting on a double date to keep up appearances.

Harry tried convincing himself that it would just be a group of Slytherins hanging out in the Three Broomsticks. He had done that before. It would just be with a smaller group than what he was used to and just with slightly different people. Instead of hanging out with Tracey, he would be with Pansy and Daphne and Draco.

As much as he tried to think of the double date in that manner, Harry still felt awkward when it came time to meet the girls before heading to Hogsmeade and it was obvious when he attempted to say anything. Finally the teenager decided to follow Draco's example and just stay silent. At least that way, he couldn't make the situation worse than it already seemed.

Just two hours, Harry thought to himself. He only had to deal with this double date situation for two hours before he would leave and go meet Sirius. Two hours really wasn't that long.

Since they had left earlier than the rest of the school, the Three Broomsticks wasn't as crowded as it normally was. It was easy to find a table that would fit four and that was where Harry and Draco left the girls as the two boys went to get drinks.

"This is absolutely ridiculous," Draco muttered after they had ordered.

"Better safe than sorry," Harry pointed out. Grey eyes glared at him and Draco refused to reply. Harry sighed. He shouldn't be the one to talk.

"This never happens again," Draco announced once the drinks arrived. "Never."

Harry readily agreed.

For the majority of the following two hours, Harry sat silently as the other three talked. Pansy, Daphne, and Draco had grown up in the same social circles, making it easier for them to create conversation. Harry would have gladly joined in on the conversation but he didn't know three-fourths of the names that were brought up in conversation.

About an hour into the double date, a large group of students arrived, mostly Gryffindors. The other three Slytherins gave the group a passing sneer but Harry kept an eye on which students were entering the pub. It didn't escape his notice that Hermione was among them, trailing behind Ron Weasley and the other fourth year male Gryffindors. She seemed to be in the same situation he was—listening to conversation, trying to speak up when she could but ultimately failing because she didn't fit in completely.

Hermione met a pair of green eyes and nodded curtly when she realized with whom Harry was hanging out. She wouldn't have minded going out of her way to say hello if Harry had been with a different group of Slytherins, but she was reluctant to do so when Draco Malfoy was around. She didn't like the blonde and Draco didn't like her. However, seeing Harry with that group, instead of with Tracey and Tracey's friends made her curious. Were dynamics beginning to change in Slytherin house?

An hour later, Harry excused himself to go meet Sirius. He had been hesitant upon dealing with his godfather but he realized that the man had his uses. His presence was a good excuse for Harry when he needed to get out of an awkward situation.

Sirius smirked when he spotted Harry. The boy was walking quickly, looking frazzled and relieved.

"I remember that look," he remarked once the boy got within earshot. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. Sirius's smirk turned into a grin.

"Your father used to have that look all the time, especially in fifth and sixth year. The girls used to love him, especially the younger ones. I lost track of how many times I had to drag him away from the hoards of girls and how many times he did the same for me. He had a reputation as a one-night hit but that was really only because he came in after curfew most nights. He would never say what he did those nights but there were plenty of rumors."

Harry gave his godfather an awkward smile. He didn't know how to respond when others started talking about James Potter. It was something he knew he should get used to but he always felt somewhat guilty.

"So what happened?" Sirius questioned. Harry shrugged.

"I got roped into a double date," he mumbled. "It wasn't  _bad_  since I already knew everyone but I rather it wouldn't have happened in the first place."

"Double dates are rough," Sirius agreed. "I remember when I went on one with your parents. I had known your father for years at that point and he acted so awkward with your mother around that it was something we later decided was better off forgotten. We were all relieved when the night was over. It took me a few years to figure out why he was so awkward that night."

"Why?" Harry asked. "Why was he awkward?"

Sirius cleared his throat and looked away. He had said too much.

"Your father wasn't one for traditional relationships," he said vaguely. "And going on a double date with your mother was a bit too traditional for his tastes. Neither of them liked to advertise their feelings for each other in public and because of that, they rarely went on dates to begin with. Lily preferred to act like she couldn't stand your father and James wanted to keep up his reputation. They were both fine with keeping their relationships secret."

Harry tilted his head. Sirius sounded like he knew more than what he was letting on. Did his godfather suspect the truth about his parentage?

"Can you tell me about Hogwarts back when you were in school?" Harry asked. Sirius huffed.

"Back when…make me feel old, why don't you," the man groaned. Harry grinned.

"Well?" he pushed. Sirius sighed but settled down in his seat. He had plenty of stories for the younger wizard.

* * *

The twenty-fourth of February was met with great excitement. It was finally time for the second task, after months of waiting. No one had any idea what the second task would be, something that had led to a multitude of rumors being spread around the school.

The rumors ranged from simple, like the one about the champions having to make a singing omelet, to absolutely absurd, like a rumor started by the Gryffindors that stated the golden eggs were Portkeys that would take the champions to an unknown location and they would have to fight their way back to Hogwarts.

Harry had laughed when he heard that particular rumor, especially when others started speculating what kind of things the champions would have to battle on their journey back.

"I highly doubt that they would allow a Basilisk to roam free in London just on the off chance that the champions would come across it," he informed the third years who were spreading the rumor. "That would defeat the purpose of the Statute of Secrecy."

"Besides, when was the last time anyone ever saw a Basilisk in England," Daphne muttered from beside him. Harry smirked, remembering his second year as a private joke. Tracey saw his smirk and rolled her eyes but didn't say anything to correct Daphne's statement.

Despite all the rumors flying around, none of them came close to what the champions were actually expected to do.

Harry followed the crowd of students after breakfast, idly following the professors' directions. It didn't take him long to realize that they were heading down to the lake, not to where the first exam had been held. He wasn't the only one to make this realization, as the students got louder the closer they got to the lake.

The champions were led out as soon as all the students had gathered together. They stood at the lake's edge as the instructions for the second task and Harry barely caught a glimpse of them entering the water as the whistle blew, announcing the start of the second task.

"Well, this is exactly how I wanted to spend my free time," he remarked when it became clear that there was going to be no commentary about what was happening beneath the lake's surface. "Staring at a lake for a few hours. It's not like we have anything else to do."

The girls standing nearby smirked at his comment while a few other students rolled their eyes.

"There have definitely been better ways to spend the morning than standing outside on a February day," Daphne agreed. "But at least we get out of classes. We'd be outside anyway for Herbology lessons."

"We'd be in the greenhouses," Harry corrected. "They're a bit warmer."

"A bit," Daphne agreed.

As the conversation began to grow, Harry looked around to see what other students were doing. The Ravenclaws seemed to have brought books and bags along, allowing them to do homework while they waited for the champions to return. The Hufflepuffs and the Gryffindors seemed to be playing some sort of game.

Well, most of the Gryffindors. Looking around, Harry noticed that there was one Gryffindor fourth year that was missing from the crowd.

Where was Hermione? Harry knew that there was a possibility that she might not have come but he doubted it. Everyone else was here and Hermione liked to try and fit in when she could. She wouldn't be alone in the castle if every other student was down by the lake.

Rather than ask questions, Harry kept his observations to himself and idly listened to the Slytherins' conversations, adding in his comments whenever he felt it was necessary.

Thirty minutes into the first task, a pale head broke the surface of the water, drawing screams from the girls in the front of the stands. Harry tried to get an idea of what was going on but he was still shorter than half of his yearmates. After a few attempts, he decided that listening to the commentary going on over all of the noise might be easier to listen to than to see what was happening.

"Our Beauxbatons champion has retired early, unable to continue any further. Apparently the grindylows were too much for our young lady to handle. She'll be unable to continue on with this task and this will have some repercussions on her start for the third task. Remarkable use of the Bubble-Head charm, though!"

Harry could see Pansy and Daphne's noses sniffing in a mixture of disappointment and distaste.

"Hardly surprising that she took last," Pansy muttered. "I suppose the water was too cold for her French tastes."

Harry rolled his eyes as Daphne agreed. The Slytherin girls could be a real mystery at times. They were perfectly nice and friendly one moment and then they were tearing other people to shreds with their words and gossip the next. It made him wonder if all girls were like that or if the girls in Slytherin House took it to the extreme.

Now that Fleur was back, Harry was given something to watch. He hadn't noticed it earlier but the stand that the professors were in was practically right below him and well within eyesight.

Madam Pomfrey was wrapping the Beauxbatons' Champion in heavy blankets and shoving something liquid into her mouth, trying to warm her up. The judges were standing in a circle, talking quietly and occasionally look over in Fleur's direction. They were probably deciding on points, Harry realized.

Fifty-five minutes of the original hour had passed the next time another set of heads broke the lake's surface. Harry loosely used the word heads because one of them looked like a shark before it changed into the head of Viktor Krum.

"Granger again?" Pansy asked in shock as she recognized the second head. "She's what Krum would miss the most?"

Harry wished that he wasn't as shocked as the rest of his housemates but that would be a blatant lie. He knew that Hermione had attended the Yule Ball with Krum but he had never occurred that she might be participating in the second task—willingly or not. Other than at the Yule Ball and once or twice in the library, Harry had never spotted Hermione together with Krum.

"Five minutes within the time limit, Mr. Krum returns, having successfully retrieved his hostage! I don't think any of us were expecting him to use partial human transfiguration! Tricky bit of spellwork that is!"

Ten minutes later, Cedric Diggory returned, his hostage swimming beside him.

"Five minutes outside the time limit, Mr. Diggory, the Hogwarts Champion returns, having used the Bubble-Head charm like Ms. Delacour. However, unlike our Beauxbatons Champion, Mr. Diggory was successful in his retrieval of his hostage! Now while the judges debate about points, the final hostage will be brought back by the local merpeople."

Harry leaned forward at that, eagerly wanting to catch a glimpse of a mermaid. Daphne gave him an odd look.

"Have you never seen a merperson?" she asked. Harry shook his head. When Daphne glanced back at Tracey, the other witch just shrugged.

"He wasn't raised in our world," she reminded the pureblood witch.

The merpeople weren't anything like Harry expected. He had been expecting half-naked people with beautiful looks and voices—an image leftover from a Disney movie that had been shown in school one day. These merpeople were entirely covered in scale, their hair green and full of algae. Their voices were more inhuman and animal-like screeches than anything else. Being towed behind them was a girl with similar blonde hair to Fleur's.

After a few minutes of watching the merpeople, Harry became aware of the points being announced over the crowd.

"While Ms. Delacour failed to retrieve her hostage, her excellent use of the Bubble-Head charm and the skills she displayed while fighting off the grindylows have earned her twenty-five points.

"Mr. Diggory takes second place. He also used the Bubble-Head charm but he unfortunately returned outside the time limit of an hour. The judges have decided to award him forty-five points.

"Finally, Mr. Krum returned five minutes within the time-limit, using an incomplete but effective form of transfiguration. He was the first to return with his hostage and we award him fifty-five points. This completes the second task. The third and final task will take place on the twenty-fourth of June."


	38. Year 4: Part 13

After the second task, things seemed to go back to normal for the Hogwarts students—as normal as things could be when one was a student in an unplottable castle, getting an education in all things magical. Being at Hogwarts had certainly raised the students' threshold for excitement, seeing as the most exciting thing that had happened in the past two months was Peeves starting a food fight in the Great Hall, specifically targeting the visiting schools.

There were still times when students found pieces of food in their uniforms, despite the fact that the food fight had taken place a week ago.

Harry was yawning, fighting a battle to stay awake in History of Magic but quickly losing. He wondered if Professor Binns was aware that he had taught the same exact lesson just last week. Maybe the professor was aware that no one could actually stay awake in his class and therefore just repeated lessons to avoid having to make new lesson plans.

A knock on the door caused Harry to become more alert and he could see others in his class raising their heads off their desks to see who was interrupting their lesson. Professor Binns looked put out until he saw that it was Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape.

"Yes Professors?" he asked. Professor Snape scanned the room before his eyes landed on Harry.

"Mr. Potter and Ms. Davis will need to be withdrawn from this lesson and classes for the rest of the day as they will be going home," he announced. Harry glanced behind him when he heard Tracey squeal in delight and saw her scrambling to her feet.

Harry didn't question the professors and instead shoved his books into his bag, eager to get out of the classroom.

"Is it time?" Tracey asked. Professor Snape nodded as he led them out of the room.

"Your mother has gone into labor, around an hour ago," he said as the door shut behind the group of four. "Your father took her to St. Mungo's before contacting the school and requesting that we pull you out so you could be there. You will be flooing out of Professor McGonagall's office and Sirius Black will be waiting for you once you step out."

"I understand pulling out Ms. Davis, Severus, but why did you insist on pulling out Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall questioned. Harry blinked at her question. Was she not aware of where he lived?

"The Davis family has been Mr. Potter's foster family since the summer before his second year," Professor Snape replied. "He is a part of their family and therefore has as much of a right to be there as Ms. Davis does."

"Mr. Potter no longer lives with his aunt and uncle?" Professor McGonagall asked, shock coloring her voice.

"No, I don't," Harry answered, reminding the older woman that he was still there. Professor McGonagall glanced down at him. Her eyes narrowed slightly before she dropped the subject, much to Harry's relief. He felt awkward when his living situation was discussed and now it was clear that the other professors hadn't known about it.

Within minutes the four were crowding into Professor McGonagall's office, where her fireplace was already roaring. Harry let Tracey go first, knowing that she had more experience than he did.

"St. Mungo's Hospital," Tracey announced clearly, allowing the flames to change color before she stepped into them and disappeared. Harry glanced at the Potions Professor and stepped forward at the nod of approval.

"St. Mungo's," Harry said, forcing himself to hold back a cough. The flames flared up and he stepped into the fireplace before disappearing.

"A foster family?" Professor McGonagall asked when both teenagers had gone. "Why wasn't I or Albus aware of that development?"

"I filled out the appropriate paperwork when Albus was suspended two years ago, while I had been temporarily appointed to Deputy Headmaster," Severus replied coolly. "It was necessary, after what I was made aware of."

"His muggle relatives would not have been my first choice," Minerva stated, "but surely those actions were—"

"They were appropriate," Severus said, cutting her off. "As for not telling you or Albus, it simply slipped my mind. If you recall, it was a busy year."

Minerva McGonagall frowned, not believing his words for a second.

"I'll have to let Albus know," she said. "He deserves to know where his students are located, in case of an emergency."

"I'm sure he's already aware of the changes in Mr. Potter's living situation, as he's had two years to review the paperwork, but by all means, let him know," Severus replied. "However, I'm sure he's said nothing because there's nothing he can do in regards to the matter. The Dursleys or their magical representative had their time to challenge Mr. Potter's placement in a foster family and no one said anything. The Ministry of Magic would no longer recognize them as possibilities to be Mr. Potter's guardians and the only one who could maybe successfully challenge the Davis's guardianship would be Sirius Black—who's made it clear that he has no intentions of doing so."

"He's safe with the Davis family?" Minerva questioned. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"They were the best choices," he stated. "Unless you would have preferred that I had placed him with the Malfoy family?"

Minerva paled at the idea and Severus nodded curtly before taking his leave. With no classes until after lunch, he made his way to his office, hoping to spend the time grading essays. Between trying to make sure his stores were protected from thieving hands and keeping an eye on certain visiting adults, he was starting to get behind—a fact that irritated him.

Severus stopped a growl in his throat when he spotted who was standing outside his office.

"Karkaroff, what an displeasure," he drawled.

"We need to talk," the Durmstrang headmaster said quietly. Severus looked him over. The man's entire body language screamed nervous and ready to flee at a moment's notice.

Severus's lip curled in distaste. He hated that he was once associated with the likes of Karkaroff.

"Not now," he said. "I've things to do."

"Now, while you can't slip off or avoid me any longer," Karkaroff snapped, switching from nervous to agitated. "Don't think I haven't noticed you've been doing so all year."

"Because of course I have nothing better to do than to have comfortable talks in my office with the likes of you. Nothing to do with the classes I have to teach or the children I have to keep an eye on, a job that requires my constant attention and presence," Severus sneered.

"Look at this and pretend you haven't noticed yours doing the same," Karkaroff said, pulling up the left sleeve of his robe. Severus barely spared the man's arm a glance, already knowing what he would see. "Tell me you haven't seen it and realized that the last time it was so clear was before the fall...Don't tell me that you're not expecting a summons any day now."

Severus's eyes were cold as he spoke the next words.

"Get out," he said. Karkaroff opened his mouth to protest but Severus refused to let him speak any more.

"Get. Out."

Karkaroff turned sharply and the door flew open for his departure, only to reveal Mad-Eye Moody standing near Severus's personal stores of potions ingredients. Unfortunately, he was close enough for the ex-Death Eater to realize that the man had heard Karkaroff's ramblings.

"Leave," Severus snarled at the Durmstrang headmaster, before turning to face his next problem. "What are you doing near my personal stores? You've already inspected them once and I don't believe that Dumbledore would give you permission a second time. I was already skeptical enough the first time."

"Private meetings with known Death Eaters?" Moody asked, raising a scarred eyebrow. "That's not something I would have guessed that someone who's renounced his ties to You-Know-Who would be involved with. Ah, but let me guess. You're gathering information to see if he knows anything about the rumors of You-Know-Who's possible return."

"I don't have to justify my actions to the likes of you," Severus replied in a cold voice. "Besides, we both know that you'll only see what you want to see."

"And do you know what I see?" Moody asked, continuing before the Potions professor had a chance to respond. "I see a wizard trying to convince others that he's  _changed_  and that when he was younger that he  _made a mistake_  while you and I both know that once a servant of the You-Know-Who, always a servant. There's no changing or going back from that decision or the blood vows that you took."

With those words, Moody limped off, his wooden leg making a loud stomping noise as he did. Severus watched him go, an eyebrow raised. He was starting to suspect that Moody was not on the side he was saying he was.

After all, how else would the ex-Auror know that he not only took vows to serve Voldemort when he was younger but that they were blood vows? As far as he knew, that detail had never been admitted by any Death Eater or been announced at any trial. The vows were common knowledge but only the Inner Circle had taken blood vows.

* * *

When Harry stumbled out of the Floo, two sets of hands reached out to steady him. As the dust from the fireplace settled down, Harry could clearly recognize Sirius and Tracey on either side of him.

"All right there, Harry?" Sirius asked and Harry nodded.

"Is the baby here yet?" Tracey asked once Harry was stable. Sirius laughed at the question.

"She only went into labor an hour ago. There's still some time before the baby comes," Sirius replied. "I wouldn't expect anything to happen for at least another two hours, if not longer."

"How long does it usually take for a baby to be born?" Harry asked, not having any knowledge on the subject. Sirius shrugged.

"It varies," he said. "If I remember right, your mum was in labor with you for nearly seven hours."

Harry's eyes widened. Seven hours? Hopefully it didn't take that long for Catherine to give birth.

As Sirius laughed, Harry realized that he had actually said what he was thinking.

"Dad said Mum was in labor for nine hours with me," Tracey admitted.

"Usually the second and third births are easier but it might be different in this case since it's been fourteen years," Sirius told the teenagers. "Usually the healers might be worried about the length of time between births and the possibility of something going wrong but they aren't too worried in Catherine's case. She was really young when she gave birth to Tracey and she's a witch, so her magic will make things easier."

As they were talking, Sirius led Harry and Tracey down a few corridors into the maternity ward waiting room, not missing the reactions of the people they passed when they spotted Harry. He had promised Snape that nothing would happen to Harry on his watch and that was a promise he intended to keep.

"Can we go and see her?" Harry asked. Sirius shook his head.

"Only two family members in the room at a time," he explained. "The healers think that too many people in the room while someone is in labor causes unnecessary stress. I imagine Zach will be by soon with news on how it's going and to take one of you in if you really want. I'm personally staying out here, though. It won't be a pretty sight in there."

Sirius was right about Tracey's father stopping by. As soon as he had received word that his children had arrived, the man was entering the waiting room. Harry waved Tracey off to see her mother a few minutes later, knowing that she was more excited than he was.

Not that Harry wasn't excited. He was, but he was still trying to figure out his place in the family.

"Want to go for a walk?" Sirius asked once the father and daughter had left. Harry nodded silently.

"What was my mum's labor like?" Harry asked. "Were you there?"

Sirius shook his head. "I was on duty at the time as an Auror. I only found out later, when she was taken to the hospital so the healers could make sure that nothing was wrong with her or you."

Harry's eyes crinkled in confusion. "She didn't give birth to me in the hospital?" he asked. "Why not?"

Sirius shrugged. "She didn't want to. I'm sure there were other reasons but talking to your father later, it probably would have been better had she gone to the hospital as soon as her labor started. There were a few complications."

Harry looked around the hallways, not saying anything. "What sort of complications?" he asked a minute later.

"Nothing extremely dangerous," Sirius said quickly. "There was no chance of losing you or her. It was just some side effects of the potion she took to conceive you."

Harry stopped in his tracks. "She had to take a potion to conceive me?" he asked. Sirius looked stricken, as if he had said something that he hadn't supposed to.

"It was necessary," he said. "And no one regretted it for a second. If she hadn't taken a potion, then she would have never gotten pregnant with you and your parents thought you were the best thing that had ever come along in their lives."

Harry reddened and quickly changed the subject, asking what ward they were in now.

"The Janus Thickey Ward," Sirius said as he looked around. A frown appeared on his face. "Interesting how we got in so easily. This ward is usually kept locked."

"Why?" Harry inquired, peering at the names of the residents. Since the names were engraved on the door, it seemed that this ward held patients for longer than just a few days.

"To keep patients from wandering around the hospital," Sirius replied. "The patients in this ward are usually affected by long-term memory issues, issues that keep them from living alone or with family."

Sirius's face paled as he recognized two familiar names and winced when he spotted his godson passing the door. It was too late to block the boy's view. Sirius attempted to rush Harry further down the hallway, but it was too late. He had already seen the names on the door.

"Longbottom?" Harry asked. "Like Neville Longbottom?" He glanced at his godfather, who didn't seem too happy. "Sirius, are those Neville's parents?"

"You know Neville?" Sirius asked, trying to avoid answering the question.

"We have some classes together and he's occasionally around Hermione, when she's not with Ron, Dean, and Seamus," Harry said. "It's common knowledge that he lives with his grandmother? Is it because his parents are in here?"

Sirius reluctantly nodded. He had been hoping to spare Harry from hearing stories of those affected by Voldemort during the first war.

"Like your parents, Neville's parents were targeted by You-Know-Who and his followers. However, unlike your parents the Death Eaters didn't kill the Longbottoms. Instead, they tortured them to the point where they can't remember who they are or who anyone else is."

"That's horrible," Harry whispered. Sirius nodded.

"They were some of the best Aurors that I worked with and they paid a very high price for that," he agreed. "You-Know-Who may have been gone for over a decade but they're proof that the scars of his rise to power still remain with our world."

After a few seconds of silence, Sirius began to lead Harry back the way they came. "Let's go see Catherine," he said. Harry readily agreed but as they left the Janus Thickey Ward, Sirius had one last thing to say.

"I wouldn't say anything about this to Neville, if I were you," his godfather said. "It's a very sensitive subject and I don't think this information is something Neville has shared with his friends."

"Don't worry," Harry said. "I won't let Neville know that I know."

Tracey and her father were waiting for the pair when they got back from their walk.

"How was it?" Harry asked Tracey, who was beaming but looked faintly sick.

"I'll let you make your opinions?" she replied. "Go on now."

With a resigned look at his foster sister, Harry followed Zach to Catherine's room. Most of the doors in the maternity ward were shut, but he could still hear some curses and screams of pain. As he was led into the room, Catherine smiled at him before she was hit by a contraction. Harry faltered and when a second contraction hit, he was fleeing the room, right back to the waiting room.

Tracey laughed at the expression on his face.

"How many contractions did you last?" she asked.

"Two, I think," Harry said weakly. Tracey and Sirius laughed even harder as they gestured for Harry to sit beside them.

The three remained in the waiting room, with Zach coming back every hour to give updates. When he missed an hour, the trio became aware that the birth was coming quickly. This awareness was followed by the two teenagers becoming restless, something that was unsurprising since they had been in the same room for nearly eight hours.

Then, after eight hours and forty-two minutes, a healer came into the waiting room and nodded at Sirius. "You're free to go in," she said. "But be quiet. The baby is sleeping."

Tracey and Harry were on their feet in a matter of seconds, following the nurse down the hallway, back to Catherine's room. Sirius trailed, looking amused.

As they entered the room, each of the three focused on something different. Harry immediately thought that Catherine looked exhausted and knew that she had every right to be. Tracey's attention was completely focused on the pink blanket in Catherine's arms and Sirius was trying to keep a straight face when he spotted the mixture of relief and terror clearly displayed on Zach's face.

"What's her name?" Tracey asked in a whisper. Catherine smiled at her daughter's enthusiasm.

"Chloe," she answered. Tracey nodded approvingly.

"And who are the godparents?" she demanded. Catherine and Zach traded looks.

"We haven't decided on a godmother yet," Zach said. "But we were wondering if Harry would be interested in becoming the unofficial godfather for the time being, and officially take up the role when he turns seventeen."

Harry stared at his foster parents, mouth opening and closing in a fish-like manner.

"Me?" he asked once he regained the ability to speak. "Why?"

"Because you're part of the family," Zach said. "Are you interested?"

"Yes!"

Harry's outburst caused the family to burst into laughter, which triggered Chloe to stir and begin to wake up. Zach ushered Tracey and Harry further to get a closer look.

"Hi Chloe," Tracey said when the small infant opened her eyes. "Welcome to the family."


	39. Year 4: Part 14

After the birth of Chloe, the rest of the school year seemed to pass smoothly. Before Harry and the other students knew it, it was time for the third task.

By now, everyone in the school knew what the third task was. The champions had been told ahead of time that it was a maze filled with obstacles and they had told their friends, who had told others, and before a week had passed, everyone else knew.

The students were hoping that during this task they would be able to see what was going on inside the maze. The first task had been exhilarating and compared to the dragons, the second task had been an extreme disappointment.

However, the discussion of whether or not the students should see the types of obstacles that were present in the maze was one of the last things on the professors' minds as they prepared for the third task. Instead, they were arguing about who should bring the Triwizard Cup to the center of the maze.

Albus Dumbledore examined the two professors in front of him, both having requested to be the one to place the cup in the maze. Alastor Moody was adamant that there was no one better than him to place the cup in the maze, as he was the only one with the skill to block any enchantments that someone might attempt to place on the prize. However, only an hour before, Severus had approached the Hogwarts headmaster, saying that it was a task that should be completed by someone Albus trusted completely and that had the necessary strength to remove any ill-intentioned spells on the cup, criteria that the only the Potions Master fit completely. Despite their arguing, both professors seemed convinced that someone else might hex or enchant the cup for nefarious reasons.

Now they were both standing before him, demanding that Albus make the decision of who would get the honor of bringing the cup to the center of the maze.

The headmaster sighed as they waited for his answer.

"Minerva and Filius will take the cup to the center of the maze," he stated and held up a hand to stop any possible protests. "Alastor, I need you to watch Karkaroff today and tonight, as we all know that he will probably stop at nothing to make sure Durmstrang comes out victorious. Severus, I need you to brew potions for Madam Pomfrey in case of an accident and to supervise the students, who are undoubtedly distracted."

Neither professor protested after Dumbledore finished talking and both left soon after. Alastor left first, giving Severus Snape a distrustful look, as if he didn't trust an ex-Death Eater to be alone with someone as powerful as Dumbledore. His look was easily ignored, as Severus had been accustomed to it over the past year.

The smug look at outmaneuvering Alastor Moody hadn't escaped Dumbledore's notice.

"I wish you two would try and get along, Severus," the older wizard said. "It wouldn't surprise me if soon I would have to reassemble to Order and you two would be fighting side by side."

"I don't trust the man and he doesn't trust me," Severus pointed out. "That's not something that's ever going to change, Albus, as you very well know."

"You don't seem surprised by my statement that I'll be reassembling the Order," Albus stated. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Why should I be?" he asked. "You've always been planning to do so as soon as you learned that the Dark Lord might not be permanently gone. I've never believed that he was dead and this year, I've lived with the knowledge and proof that every day he's growing stronger. The only surprise I might have had is that you haven't reassembled the Order soon."

With that, Severus left the office. While Albus was making plans in the circumstances of Voldemort's return, Severus was making plans of his own.

They weren't the only two making plans in the school. The supposed Alastor Moody, who was truthfully Bartemius Crouch Jr., was making new plans of his own, now that his original plans were foiled.

It had been his intentions to turn the Triwizard Cup into a Portkey, which would transport the champion to the Dark Lord's location. It hadn't mattered who, since the Dark Lord would consider anyone not marked as a Death Eater as his enemy, allowing the ritual to work without a problem. Now that he wasn't taking the cup into the maze, that was no longer an option.

He had to make sure that the Dark Lord somehow got a hold of someone tonight to perform the ritual. Barty had already failed once, when the Confundus charm on the Goblet of Fire had been found and removed, thus removing Harry Potter from consideration as a champion for the Triwizard Tournament.

The Dark Lord wouldn't forgive a second failure.

It was just after dinner when Barty Crouch Jr. came up with a plan that had the possibility of working and that just might get him back in the Dark Lord's good graces. He might not be able to deliver Harry Potter to the wizard that night, but with this plan, he could give his Lord the younger wizard's blood—forcibly taken, like the potion required—and would deliver the actual Harry Potter the next day, when Aurors would be expected to look outside the school grounds.

He would take Harry that night but he suspected that there were spells on the boy or his personal objects that would alert either Dumbledore or one of the other professors if he left Hogwarts school grounds. It was better to do it tomorrow, when panic had started to set in and people began to lose their ability to think rationally.

Yes, it was a plan with potential.

Things began to fall smoothly into place when Harry separated from the rest of his Slytherin counterparts to go to the lavatory. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor followed unobtrusively, making sure that no other students went into the same lavatory and moving them along to the Quidditch pitch when there was any sign of students trying to linger.

When Harry stepped out of the lavatory, the corridor was empty except for Professor Moody, who seemed to be waiting for him.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," the Professor greeted him. "It seems your friends have left you."

"They're probably at the Quidditch pitch already," Harry said. "I told them to go on ahead. Why aren't you already there, professor?"

"Just making sure that the last of the students made it out of the Great Hall," Professor Moody replied. "Let's make our way down together, shall we? That is, if you don't mind stopping by my office first. I need to grab something for the judges."

If others had been around, Harry would have probably refused and joined them on the journey outside but since there was no one around, he felt awkward doing so.

"All right," he agreed hesitantly and began following the professor. They walked in silence, Professor Moody seemingly unaware of Harry's reluctance.

"What do the judges need?" Harry asked as they got to Professor Moody's office and stepped inside. Once he was inside, the door closed, startling Harry.

"Nothing," Professor Moody replied, turning to face Harry for the first time.

"What?" Harry asked, noticing too late that the professor had drawn his wand. Before he even had time to consider drawing his own wand, the older wizard had cast a spell that sprouted ropes from the end and tied themselves tightly around Harry's arms and legs. "What's going on, Professor Moody?"

"Oh, shut up," his attacker growled. "Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

"What's going on?" As Harry struggled, the ropes seemed to grow tighter around his body, but he didn't notice. Instead, all Harry was paying attention to was the knife that Moody had picked up from his desk. "What are you going to do with that?"

Professor Moody didn't reply and remained silent as he cut the sleeve of Harry's robes off, revealing the upper arm. A few seconds later, Harry cried out as he felt the knife slicing into his skin, drawing blood. His struggles increased significantly in a futile attempt to get free.

The older wizard held Harry in place as he collected the boy's blood into a handful of vials. Then he stepped away and looked around the room.

"Well, I can't have you telling anyone else about this, so I guess you'll just have to join my other prisoner for the night."

Harry paused in his struggles. "Your other prisoner?" he asked, his mouth going dry. Moody smirked at his obvious panic.

"My other prisoner," he confirmed. "He's been imprisoned in this office for a year and no one's noticed. I highly doubt they'll find you in time."

"You won't get away with this," Harry snapped, causing the other wizard to smirk and let out a bark of laughter.

"You won't be able to stop me," Moody replied and waved his wand as he began to drag Harry towards the office's far wall. His trunk sprung open and before Harry could process what was happening, he was being thrown inside of the object.

It didn't really surprise Harry that he could fit inside the trunk or that there was a cell-like room in one of its compartments. He had seen magic do all sorts of things and, as horrible as it sounded, this was really quite mild compared to some of those things.

"You'll make a wonderful welcome back present, Potter," he heard Moody say before the trunk lid closed. "The Dark Lord will favor me forever once I deliver him to you." Once the lid was fully closed, the ropes binding Harry fell off.

Harry looked around the small room he was imprisoned in, taking only seconds to locate the other wizard in the room. "Professor Moody?" His green eyes narrowed in confusion. How was Moody in here when he was also out there?

"Yes, the actual one this time," the other wizard growled. He looked as weak as he sounded. "Bastard's been posing as me for months now, just keeping me around to use my hair for Polyjuice Potion."

"If you're the actual Professor Moody…" Harry said slowly, "then who's the other one?"

Alastor Moody coughed before responding. "Barty Crouch Jr., Death Eater of You-Know-Who. He attacked me a few days before I headed to Hogwarts. No one even had an inkling, I suppose. Now who are you?"

"Harry Potter," Harry replied. "He lured me to his office and attacked me. I don't know why."

"Did he take anything from you?" Moody asked sharply. Harry blinked at him.

"What?"

"Did he take anything from you, like your hair or blood?"

Harry rubbed his arm and winced as his hand came away, covered in blood.

"My blood," he replied. The older wizard growled at the admission.

"Damn it," he practically shouted. "There's all sorts of potions or spells he could use with your blood, none of them good. Did he say anything about what he was planning to do?"

Harry shook his head, causing Moody to let out another curse.

"Is there no way to open the trunk from the inside?" Harry asked after a few minutes. Moody snorted and shook his head.

"I've tried everything at this point, Potter, including some things that are consider illegal by the Ministry. Nothing short of a Portkey would get through the enchantments in this trunk and only a Portkey brought in from the outside would work. Making your own Portkey would be useless."

"I have a Portkey," Harry said quickly. Moody looked at him sharply and Harry took off his wand holster from where it had been wrapped around his uninjured arm.

"Then get out of here," Moody growled. "Don't worry about me. Just get out of here, contact Dumbledore, and lead him here. I'll stay here as proof as what the imposter's been doing all year."

Harry nodded and tapped his wand against the wand holster. The imposter Moody must have been in a rush seeing as he had left Harry with his wand. Either that or he was extremely confident in the trunk's enchantments.

" _Portus_ ," Harry said quickly and felt the jerking of the Portkey around his navel.

Outside, in the stands of the Quidditch pitch, Severus Snape felt his own wand holster begin to vibrate. He hadn't told Harry but he had attached a charm to Harry's wand holster that would let him know if Harry ever activated his Portkey. The fact that it was vibrating now, in the middle of the third task, concerned Severus.

The dark-haired wizard stood and began to make his way through the crowd of students, catching Sirius Black's eye on the way. Black had been invited to the third task by Dumbledore, as an extra wand in case anything happened.

Severus wouldn't admit it but he was glad for Black's presence now.

"What's going on, Snape?" Black asked when he finally caught up to the Potions Professor. "Things were just starting to get interesting in the maze."

"Harry's activated an emergency Portkey," Severus informed him. Sirius's eyes widened and he looked back at the Quidditch pitch.

"I didn't see him at the third task," he realized.

"Neither did I," Severus stated.

"Where does this emergency Portkey go?" Sirius asked. "Do you know?"

Severus sneered. "I gave him the Portkey," he snapped. "Of course I know."

"Then let's go," Sirius ordered.

The two men began heading back to the castle, thankful that this was happening when everyone else was distracted. This way they didn't have to deal with panicking students.

"Your office?" Sirius asked as they began heading in the direction of the dungeons once inside the castle.

"It needed to be somewhere I could get to quickly," Severus said coolly. "And where it wouldn't be suspicious if I went there at any time of the day."

"I wasn't criticizing," Sirius growled out. "Just saying."

When they arrived at the entrance to Severus's office, Sirius gestured for the Potions professor to stay back while he opened the door. It was just as well because a stunning spell shot through the door as soon as it moved.

"It's Sirius and Snape," Sirius called as he narrowly dodged the stunner. "Harry, it's okay. It's just us." When there was silence, Sirius pushed the door opened further to bring Harry into view. The fourteen-year-old was swaying on his feet, unnaturally pale and blood dripping down from one arm.

"What happened?" Sirius demanded, moving to sit Harry down as Severus went to his personal stores to pull out a blood replenishing potion and a paste to help stop the bleeding.

"Moody," Harry said in a weak voice. "He's an imposter and he's been keeping the real Moody in his trunk all year. He lured me to his office and attacked me. He tried to imprison me as well but he didn't know about the Portkey."

Sirius let out a curse while Severus went over the past hour in his mind. Alastor Moody hadn't been present at the third task, he now realized. The last time he had seen the man had been at dinner.

"Do you know who's the imposter?" Sirius asked once Severus had gotten Harry to swallow the potion. "Any clue at all?"

Harry made a face at the potion's taste but nodded. "The real Moody told me that his name was Barty Crouch Jr."

Severus's eyebrows almost went into his hairline at the statement. That explained the comment about the blood vows then.

"That's impossible," Sirius said. "He's dead. He died in Azkaban. I saw the guards remove his body."

"Someone's been brewing Polyjuice Potion all year," Severus said in a tight voice. "If I remember correctly from our own Hogwarts years, that was one of Crouch Jr.'s specialties in Potions class."

"The real Moody is still in his office," Harry said. "In the trunk against the far wall. You can go check."

Sirius and Severus traded glances.

"Go fetch Dumbledore and the other Head of Houses, along with Pomfrey," Severus ordered. "Harry and I will meet you at Moody's office." Severus Snape didn't like the idea of including Harry in this mess any further but he needed to show Dumbledore proof that Crouch Jr. had taken Harry's blood.

It took only a quarter of an hour for the professors to gather at Alastor Moody's office. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout took one look at Harry and his bandaged arm and promptly paled while Dumbledore's face took on a sad shadow.

"So what young Sirius said is true," he said. "Filius, open the door please."

The Charms professor nodded and removed the spells guarding the door before attempting to open it.

As the adults stepped into the empty office, Sirius quickly directed their attention to the large trunk in the room while Severus began to take notice of the countless potions bottles in the room. He suspected that if he opened them, he would be able to smell Polyjuice Potion.

It took the professors a few tries but eventually they were able to open the right compartment.

"Minerva, contact the Aurors," Dumbledore said as a weakened and partially bald Alastor Moody was helped out of the trunk. "Pomona, Poppy, please escort Alastor and Mr. Potter to the hospital wing, into the private wards. Don't allow anyone other than one of us in unless I give permission."

"What about the Triwizard Tournament?" Professor Sprout asked. Dumbledore gave a sad smile.

"The judges aren't needed for the third task," he explained. "Whoever touches the cup first is the winner of the tournament. Once I'm sure that the Aurors have everything in hand, I'll return and inform the other judges what has happened here tonight. I'm sure they won't mind pushing the celebration feast to tomorrow night. Minerva, once you've contacted the Aurors, take my place with the judges at the Quidditch pitch."

As the three professors guided Harry and the retired Auror from the room before going to complete their assigned tasks, Filius looked at Albus expectantly.

"What do you want the three of us to do?" he asked, gesturing to Severus and Sirius as well as himself.

"Stay here until the Aurors come. I predict that the imposter will be returning and it would be negligent to not keep watch and be prepared if he should come back before the Aurors can arrive."

"You really think he'll be foolish enough to return?" Filius Flitwick asked.

"He left young Mr. Potter behind. I believe that if he didn't plan on returning, he would have either eliminated both of his prisoners or he would have taken Mr. Potter with him."

"Disgusting," Sirius hissed. The other wizards in the room were inclined to agree with him.

Nearly an hour passed before there were any sign of change. The first sign of change didn't come from movement in the corridor, like everyone expected, but rather from the burning of the Dark Mark on Severus's arm.

The Potions Professor hissed as his mark completely darkened to the shade it had been the day before Voldemort's fall. Albus looked at him, alarm hidden in his blue eyes. When he noticed Severus gripping his arm, he led the Potions professor into the corridor.

"Severus, what's happening?" he asked in a whisper.

"I'm being summoned," Severus hissed through gritted teeth.

"By Voldemort?" Albus questioned. Severus winced in pain as the Dark Mark burned for a second time, not liking the fact that he was ignoring its call.

"Who else?" he replied. Dumbledore frowned.

"Go," he ordered. "Make note of who else was called and what he says and report back.

Severus Snape nodded before striding down the corridor, preparing to face his second master. If he was being summoned, that meant Voldemort had returned and his position as a spy was now needed again.


	40. Year 4: Part 15

Severus couldn't deny that he was nervous as he went to go kneel before Lord Voldemort once more. It was to be expected, though, as there was no telling what the man's mental state might be after thirteen years disembodied. It wasn't bound to be good, though, seeing as the wizard wasn't exactly  _sane_  before Harry Potter had defeated him.

When Severus landed in the graveyard, he was already robed and masked. He wasn't the first to arrive but he certainly wasn't the last. After kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes and greeting him, Severus took up his place in the inner circle, he examined his surroundings. Three others were already there and a few more were apparating in. A man was quivering on the ground, whimpering in pain at the Dark Lord's feet. Behind them was a cauldron that was being disposed of by Barty Crouch Jr. It seemed that the Polyjuice Potion he had been taking religiously over the year had worn off.

"Welcome, my most loyal Death Eaters," Voldemort's familiar hissing voice rang out in the graveyard, sending familiar shivers down everyone's spines. "Thirteen years since we last met, though you stand here as though it were only yesterday. I see many empty spaces of those that did not return but you…you few were brave enough, loyal enough to return to my side.

"And yet, if you were so loyal, why did none of you seek me out, come to the aid of your master? Did you believe me broken and gone from this filthy mortal world? Do you now pay allegiance to another?"

It wasn't difficult to determine the Dark Lord's intentions. He was waiting for one of the Death Eaters to break under his criticism, to beg for forgiveness and the first one who did so would be punished. To beg for forgiveness would be showing weakness and there were two things that Voldemort didn't tolerate—weakness and failure.

Severus stood firm as the first Death Eater cracked. He would never beg for anything, let alone for forgiveness from a man such as Lord Voldemort. He knew his actions and he would accept the consequences of them, no matter what they ultimately might be.

Once the first round of punishments was over, the Dark Lord began to walk the circle, focusing his attention on each and every one of the Death Eaters that had returned. As he spoke to them, Severus made note of the names spoken.

Avery. Lucius Malfoy. Macnair. Crabbe Senior. Goyle Senior. Bartemius Crouch Jr. Nott Senior. Alecto Carrow. Amycus Carrow. Yaxley. Rowle. Jugson.

A few went unnamed but not many. Finally Lord Voldemort stopped in front of Severus. Almost immediately, the Potions Master could feel someone using legilimency to probe his mind. Severus knew he couldn't guard everything from the Dark Lord but he could make sure that the few things that slipped through were relatively innocent in nature.

"Severus…my loyal double agent, if there is such a thing. Others were sure that you had abandoned me and yet, here you stand, ready to return to my service."

"I never doubted that you would return, my Lord," Severus whispered. "I would have sought you out but it was only Dumbledore's naïve belief that I was loyal to him that kept me out of Azkaban and at his side ever since. I have used my time at Hogwarts to gather information for our cause, information that I hope you will find most useful."

Voldemort was silent for a minute, judging his words and what he had seen. There was nothing in Severus's mind that put his words into doubt but there a few moments he had glimpsed between the man and Harry Potter. From those moments, he had been able to determine that their relationship was not the typical professor-student one and it would be something he would have to look further into.

"My Lord," Severus whispered before the man could move on. "I know that I, and certainly many others, crave to learn how you have achieved this extraordinary feat, how you managed to return to lead us after so many years."

A cruel smile formed on Voldemort's thin lips and he continued his walk around the circle, until he stopped once again in front of Bartemius Crouch Jr.

"Unlike many of you, there was one Death Eater that never doubted me, never wavered in his loyalty. He sought me out, provided others to serve me when he could not, and gathered the materials to perform the ritual that brought me back this night. It was just a few hours ago when he provided the last ingredient for the ritual—the blood of an enemy, forcibly taken.

"The blood of Harry Potter. Truly a prize. When his original plans failed, I had resigned to using the blood of any witch or wizard, since I consider all that are not marked by me as an enemy. However, fate truly blessed me tonight as my most loyal servant was able to get his hands on the blood I prized the most. It was Potter's blood that I needed to use if I wanted to rise again, more powerful than before.

"And now I have. I can feel the power coursing through my veins. Lord Voldemort has risen once again, very much alive and more powerful than before."

After a heartbeat of silence, cheers rose up from the circle of Death Eaters. Severus joined in, desperately trying to keep his mind blank in order not to betray his reluctance.

It felt like hours later when the first Death Eaters were allowed to leave. To Severus's dismay, he was kept behind with most of the remaining inner circle while Crouch Jr. was ordered to return to Hogwarts and tie up loose ends. Severus could only hope that Dumbledore and the Aurors were waiting for the man when he arrived.

* * *

To Barty Crouch Jr.'s surprise, the third task was still going on when he arrived back at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Surely the cup couldn't have been that hard to find or the maze that difficult to navigate?

It was just as well. With the third task going on and with everyone's attention focused on that, it would be easy to kill Alastor Moody, grab Potter and return to Lord Voldemort's side. It wouldn't take more than an hour. It was just a pity that Karkaroff was occupied with the third task. Barty would have enjoyed killing him as well, as punishment for betraying the Dark Lord.

The corridors were oddly silent as Crouch Jr. strode down them but he paid it no mind. He was still reveling on the high of the thought that the Dark Lord had finally returned. With his father dead, Barty would be able to proudly proclaim his loyalty to the Dark Lord and take his place at the wizard's side.

His glee at this latest development prevented Barty from being as vigilant as he normally was. Maybe if he had been, he would have spotted the Auror stepping out from behind a suit of armor and sending a stunning spell at his back.

"Stupefy!"

As Crouch Jr. collapsed on the ground, the Aurors and Hogwarts staff waiting in his office entered the corridor.

"It's just like you and Black said, Albus," the Auror who had stunned Crouch Jr. said. "Bartemius Crouch Jr. I was one of those that transported him to Azkaban thirteen years ago. I would recognize him anywhere."

Albus Dumbledore nodded. "You have your statements from Sirius Black, Mr. Potter, and Alastor Moody. I'll leave it to you to figure out his intentions and how he escaped from Azkaban and to handle the rest of this situation. It would be nice if you could hold off printing this news until the school year is done but I understand that if Miss Skeeter gets her hands on this story, it'll be out of your control."

"We'll do our best," the Auror in charge promised as others began shackling and restraining Crouch Jr. Once their tasks were complete, the Death Eater was revived and hauled to his feet.

"You didn't figure it out in time!" Barty shouted as he was marched away. "You failed, Dumbledore! Lord Voldemort has risen once again and it'll be on your conscience when you realize that he used Harry Potter's blood to do so. They are now more connected than ever and there's nothing you can do to protect the boy!"

Once Dumbledore was certain that Bartemius Crouch Jr. was off of Hogwarts grounds, he led Sirius to the hospital wing so the man could be with his godson. The headmaster didn't want to return to the third task, where no doubt they would be celebrating a winner of the Triwizard Tournament soon. After the past few hours, he wasn't in the mood for celebrations.

When the pair of wizards entered to the hospital wing, they came across a scene where Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey were physically restraining Harry, trying desperately to keep him in his bed.

"What's going on?" Sirius demanded.

"We don't know," Professor Sprout said. "All of a sudden he started screaming in pain and it seemed like he was trying to scratch his scar off. He stilled for a moment but before we could run a diagnosis to see what was wrong, he tried to leave his bed."

Albus gave a sad sigh. "I think I have your answer," he said solemnly. "Bartemius Crouch Jr. has just been apprehended by Aurors. He informed us that Voldemort has risen once again, using Mr. Potter's blood. I suspect that his scar is reacting to that."

Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout paled at the news and Harry stopped struggling for a minute, giving Sirius a beseeching look.

"Pomona, you may leave now to check on your students, particularly Cedric. I suspect the third task will be finishing soon if it hasn't already," Albus said, dismissing the woman. "Sirius will assist Poppy in watching over Mr. Potter tonight."

"What about Professor Snape?" Harry asked quietly. "Shouldn't he be here? He's my head of house, after all."

There was no response for a moment before Dumbledore spoke again. "In normal circumstances, yes, but unfortunately Professor Snape will be away for the rest of the night."

"Doing what?" Harry demanded, feeling a ball of worry settle in his gut. "Where did he go?"

Dumbledore didn't respond, choosing instead to escort Professor Sprout out of the hospital wing. Harry turned his panicked face toward Sirius, silently demanding answers. Sirius waited until the hospital matron went to go fetch a calming draught from her stores before speaking up.

"Snape was a spy during the first war," he said. "You-Know-Who summoned his followers tonight and he went, presumably to take up that position once more."

Harry's green eyes widened and he tried to get out of the hospital bed but Sirius pushed him down before he could get very far.

"No!" he practically screamed. "He can't! No!"

The elevation of Harry's voice brought Madam Pomfrey rushing into the room once again, a goblet in her hand.

"Mr. Black, what are you doing to cause Mr. Potter such distress?" she demanded. "Professor Dumbledore may want you to watch over Mr. Potter but I'll need to ask you to leave if you're just going to make things worse."

"Sorry," Sirius apologized half-heartedly before being recruited into convincing Harry to take the calming drought. The fourteen-year-old was resistant to doing so and only complied once Sirius promised to send Professor Snape to the hospital wing once he returned.

"He's very close to Professor Snape, isn't he?" Madam Pomfrey asked once Harry was sleeping a few minutes later. She had mixed a sleeping potion in with the calming draught, thinking it might make things easier on the boy.

Sirius merely shrugged at her question, not wanting to say anything. Snape would never forgive him if Sirius let something slip about the true nature of his and Harry's relationship.

Before Madam Pomfrey could press for answers, loud cheers began to filter in through a partially opened window. The matron bustled over to see what was going on, before giving a small smile and shaking her head.

"It seems that the third task is over," she said. "The students are returning to the school."

"Who won?" Sirius asked, hoping that the change of conversation would allow Madam Pomfrey to forget about Harry's panicking over the disappearance of Snape.

The witch listened to the cheers closely for a minute.

"Cedric Diggory, it seems," she said. "A Hogwarts victory."

"Hopefully the students' excitement will prevent word from getting out about what else happened tonight," Sirius stated, glancing over at Harry, who shifted slightly in his sleep.

"Hopefully," Madam Pomfrey agreed before taking a seat in one of the many chairs in the room. She wanted to relax for a few minutes before the Triwizard champions were brought to the hospital wing to have whatever injuries they received in the maze to be healed.

* * *

It was nearly dawn when Severus returned to Hogwarts, feeling more exhausted than he had in thirteen years. Once inside the castle, he went immediately up to the headmaster's office, where he knew Dumbledore would be waiting for him.

One look at Severus confirmed what Albus already knew to be true. Voldemort was truly back. As soon as the Potions professor entered the office and closed the door, he listed off the names of those who had attended the meeting and what had been said. No true information had been given but at least it was a start.

Once Severus was done giving his report, Albus sat back, thinking carefully.

"The Ministry is going to be unwilling to entertain the idea that he's returned," the older wizard said slowly. "They'll deny it at every possible chance and they'll use the Daily Prophet to cast doubt on those that claim that Voldemort has returned."

"Especially as long as Fudge is Minister of Magic," Severus agreed. "He'll order the Aurors to keep it silent, possibly even go as far as sentencing Crouch Jr. to the Dementor's Kiss without a trial. It wouldn't be the first time."

"We'll keep Voldemort's return from the students," Albus decided. "No sense in creating panic and spreading rumors. I'll inform the professors, those that weren't around tonight. Their presence will be required over the summer, to strengthen the castle wards against any possible attacks. I don't imagine that Voldemort would be so daring, not so soon after his return, but one never knows. Mr. Potter—"

"—will be returning to where he normally does during the summer. I'm sure that Sirius Black will be contacting Mr. Potter's guardians and offering them the use of one of his houses." Albus frowned at Severus's words but didn't protest. He knew that if he tried to remove Harry from his current situation, he would be met with resistant not only from the Davis family, but also Sirius and Severus as well. He needed to keep the two wizards on his side and therefore, needed to choose his fights wisely. Harry wasn't in any immediate danger but if there was any hint that he was, that was when Albus would step in.

"Very well," Dumbledore said a few seconds later. "One last thing, Severus," he said as the other wizard began to stand. "Once the students are on the train home, I'll be calling the Order together once more to create a plan of action."

Severus nodded, recognizing the hidden order.

"Mr. Potter is currently in this hospital wing, being watched over by Sirius and Poppy," Albus informed the man. "He was asking after you earlier."

Severus nodded once again and left the headmaster's office. Before he went up to the hospital wing, he returned to his office and treated his pains using his personal store of potions. It wouldn't do to be injured when Harry awoke.

A few days later was the end of the year feast, which simultaneously celebrated the win of Cedric Diggory. The students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had remained, preparing to take off the following morning. Unlike the traditional end of the year feast, where there would be an announcement of the winner of the Inter-House Cup, there was instead a ceremonious presentation of the Triwizard Tournament prize to Cedric, done by the Minister of Magic himself.

Harry felt out of place during the feast. He found himself constantly wondering how the other students were able to remain so cheerful and exuberant, ready to go home for the summer. How had they not realized that something horrible had happened a few nights ago? Had they not picked up on the fact that none of the professors were celebrating? That a few people were even missing?

Looking around the Great Hall, Harry noticed that there were a few students that weren't celebrating as well. Hermione was looking rather worried and Draco had been nervous to go home ever since he had received a letter from his mother. A few Ravenclaws were quiet as well, having picked up on the tensions among the staff.

Harry glanced at the head table, where Professor Snape was seated. The Potions professor had requested that Harry come down to his office after the feast to discuss summer plans. Just the request made Harry nervous. He had heard the other students saying that the man was in a much fouler mood than he normally was.

At eight o'clock that night, Harry knocked on the door to Professor Snape's office. The door swung open and Harry stepped inside, looking around hesitantly.

"You wanted to speak to me, sir?" he asked. Professor Snape nodded.

"You'll be going to the Davis household immediately upon getting off the train. I have things to do here that will prevent me from leaving the castle during the summer. Sirius Black will be staying with you and the Davis family over the summer as well, as an added precaution."

"An added precaution for what?" Harry asked. "In case You-Know-Who comes after me?"

Severus nodded. "Catherine and Zach have already been warned of his return," he said, "which is why they are allowing Mr. Black to stay in their home. If there should be any true threat to them or you, Sirius has offered the use of own of his homes outside the country. We believe that the Dark Lord will not look outside of the country until he has gathered some of his original strength."

Harry nodded mutely, starting to understand what Voldemort's return meant for him. The wizard would be coming after him eventually. Once Professor Snape dismissed him, Harry turned to leave but when he was at the door, he paused.

"Be safe over the summer?" he asked the man. Severus sighed but nodded. He wouldn't take any unnecessary risks, if only to make sure he was around for his son for a few more years.


	41. Year 5: Part 1

The first half of the summer passed dully for Harry and his foster family. It seemed that despite Dumbledore going to the Ministry to announce Voldemort's return, the Ministry of Magic was going to do nothing with the information. Instead, they were going to ignore it.

It was quite easy to do, with no attacks or even hints of Death Eater activity. Mr. and Mrs. Davis stayed up to date with the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet—which seemed to slander Dumbledore every other day to prevent anyone from believing that the rumors of Voldemort's return were true—and they had even taken to listening to the muggle news to make sure that they weren't missing any information.

Tracey seemed to not notice her parents and Sirius on high alert for anything strange, content to just entertain herself with Chloe and trying to teach her how to do baby things, but Harry knew otherwise. He and Tracey had taken to having late night conversations, when their parents were asleep. It was during those conversations when they confided their thoughts and fears to each other.

"I almost don't want to go back to Hogwarts," Tracey admitted one night. "Four years of building up trust and friendships are going to be ruined in one summer. I don't want to deal with everyone tiptoeing around everyone else because they don't know who supports You-Know-Who and who doesn't even know he's back. Not to mention there's a chance that I'll be named a blood traitor just because—"

"Of me," Harry sighed. "There's bound to be a few, even though one could hope that after four years, most of our house would change their minds about me. It's not like I actively went out and made myself You-Know-Who's enemy."

"It doesn't matter to me," Tracey decided. "I just know that it'll make things harder if that term gets thrown around."

"Who knows, maybe our house will find something else to focus on during the year," Harry suggested.

"We're not going to have another Triwizard Tournament to distract us," Tracey grumbled. "I doubt anything interesting will happen besides Quidditch."

"You never know. Maybe our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will be so bad that everyone will have no choice except to keep their heads down and study instead of focusing on things outside of school."

Tracey laughed at that. "Keep dreaming."

There were a few minutes of silence as they stared at the room's walls.

"I don't want to go back to Hogwarts either," Harry finally said. "I know it'll be safe, especially if Dumbledore is there, but I don't want something to happen here while we're gone. I don't want to get a letter saying that something's happened to Sirius or your mum and dad."

"Or Chloe," Tracey whispered. "I've heard the stories and you're living proof. You-Know-Who and his followers have no qualms about killing children, even if they're not old enough to walk and talk."

Harry shivered at the idea of something happening to his youngest "sister". The thought was practically unbearable.

The clock struck midnight and Tracey yawned.

"We should go to bed. Especially because Mum said that she, Dad, and Sirius will be taking us into the city tomorrow morning. Something about running errands and going to see a muggle film."

"Night," Harry said as Tracey got to her feet and slipped out of his room. He went to bed a few minutes later but sleep didn't come easy. It never did these days. There were too many things to worry about.

The next day wouldn't have been memorable had it not been for the event that happened as they were leaving the cinema and heading home for the day. Tracey and Harry had been bored out of their minds while running errands—even in the wizarding world, doing things such as dropping off clothes to be professionally cleaned and paying bills at the bank were exceedingly dull.

The film they saw at the cinema was filled with action and adventure. Despite not having magic, everyone was quick to acknowledge that when they put their minds to it, muggles could come up with extraordinary things. The quickly advancing technologies and special effects that they saw in the films proved that from time to time.

"Did you see—" Tracey asked.

"Yes, we did," her father stated.

"And the—"

"Yes."

"Even the—"

"We all saw the same movie," Harry pointed out. "We all saw the same things you did."

Tracey glared at him and stuck her tongue out. Harry laughed and rolled his eyes. He contemplated pulling a face to see how she'd react but he was beginning to notice that the adults were looking tired. They were also getting tenser.

So instead of acting childishly, Harry looked around.

"Is something going on?" Tracey asked, noting Harry's sudden wariness.

"It's probably nothing," Sirius said, running a hand across the back of his neck and grimacing when it came up sweaty. "Something just seems off in the air."

"It's been a long day," Tracey's father said. "We should head home, relieve Chloe from your grandparents' spoiling."

His wife smiled affectionately at the thought of her husband arguing with his in-laws over who held the newest addition to the family. The same thing had happened with Tracey when she had been born and it was a sight that never failed to raise her spirits.

The group of five continued to walk down the street, talking quietly and keeping an eye on each other. Nowadays, someone breaking off from the group was something to be feared.

As they walked, the amount of people on the streets thinned until they were eventually walking through a small park alone. The shade in the park was a welcome respite from the heat of the day.

"Can't we just apparate home?" Tracey asked, wiping sweat away from her forehead. "It's too hot to be doing all of this walking."

"Once we're on the other side of the park. It's usually empty there," Sirius said. Tracey gave a dramatic sigh but didn't complain. She knew that when they were in the city, they had to be careful using magic. There were a lot more muggles around to accidentally witness something.

As they continued through the park, Harry started to understand what his godfather had been saying a few minutes earlier. Something seemed off in the air. Like something big was going to happen.

A few more steps and the group knew something was terribly wrong. Harry shivered violently, wondering why it had gotten so cold all of a sudden. Temperature drops like this couldn't be considered normal.

"Dementors," Catherine Davis whispered, feeling the same temperature drop. "But that's impossible. They shouldn't be away from Azkaban."

Her husband pushed Harry behind him, shielding the teenager with his body. Sirius did the same with Tracey and it was then that Harry realized that all three adult wizards and witches had drawn their wands quicker than he could have blinked.

"Zach, you and Catherine should take the children home," Sirius said. "I'll take care of the dementors."

"No!" Harry protested loudly, horror forcing him to speak.

"Absolutely not," Zach agreed, eyes scanning for the dementors that they could feel in the area. His wife was standing behind him, the last point in a triangle that had been formed to protect the two youngest of their group.

Catherine spotted the dementors first. There were three of them. Easily handled, in her opinion.

"Zach," she said softly, getting her husband's attention. Then she pointed her wand at the approaching dementors. "Expecto patronum!"

Tracey gasped as a silver dog emerged from her mother's wand, shining brightly. Seconds after it charged the dementors, a silver goat followed after it, as well as wisps of silver. The wisps briefly took the shape of a much larger and bulkier dog than Catherine's patronus but they soon dissolved.

"Expecto patronum!" Sirius roared, and this time a silver dog in the shape of his animagus form burst from his wand, nearly blinding Harry with its brightness.

The dementors had been hesitant faced with one strong patronus. Now faced with three—one for each of them—they were quickly overwhelmed.

"I didn't know you could do that," Tracey whispered once they were gone. "Isn't the patronus charm difficult to perform?"

"The Ministry teaches the theory of the charm to all of its employees when they're hired," Zach explained, voice tired. "They have to, because so many departments and people deal with Azkaban and their prisoners."

"And it's not difficult to do when you've had as happy a life as me and your father have had," Catherine added.

"A poodle?" Sirius asked her. "I would have never guessed."

Catherine sniffed as her husband laughed.

"Pretty on the outside, tough, possessive, and protective on the inside," she pointed out. "It makes perfect sense to me. Now let's go home. We don't need to run into any more of those creatures."

No one argued. Tracey grabbed onto her mother's arm and Zach gripped Harry's shoulder tightly as they apparated away.

When they landed in the Davis's kitchen, Harry held a hand over his mouth until it became clear he wasn't going to be sick. Despite having been side-apparated a few times, he was still getting used to the sensation.

"I'm going to the Ministry," both of Tracey's parents announced at the same time. Sirius snorted in amusement but said nothing as the other two adults had a silent conversation about who would go and who would stay. Finally Tracey's father nodded and Catherine headed for the floo.

"What's happened?" a voice asked and two elderly heads poked into the kitchen.

Even though he had just met them this summer, Harry had quickly grown to like Henry and Charlotte Johnson. He had never entertained the idea of having grandparents since both sets of his had died before he was born, but Harry hoped that if he had known them, they would have been a lot like Catherine's parents.

"Dementors attacked us. Inside the city, though it was an isolated area," Zach explained. "I don't think any muggles spotted what happened."

"Dementors?" Charlotte asked, clutching Chloe closer to her body. "Outside of Azkaban?"

"Attacked? Who were they after?"

"Henry, what a ridiculous question! How can they know who the dementors were after? It's not like they could have just asked them."

Everyone hid a grin as Charlotte chastised her husband. Zach looked over Tracey and Harry's heads to give Sirius a meaningful look. His in-laws caught it and shared their own look.

"Tracey, Harry, come to the sitting room," Charlotte said, ushering them out of the kitchen. "There's biscuits and tea in there."

The two teenagers weren't given much of a choice as they were led from the room. Once Zach knew they were out of earshot, he gave a sigh of relief.

"That could have gone a lot worse," he said.

"Dementors. In London," Sirius stated. "I don't think anywhere in Britain is safe now."

"Neither do I," Zach agreed. "And you and I both know who they were probably after."

"S'not like it's hard to deduce," Sirius muttered. "Especially with the timing of the attack. Right after You-Know-Who returns. The dementors were always bound to be one of the first beings he would recruit."

"What should we do?" Zach asked. "If they found him there, they can find him here."

"I have a house abroad," Sirius said. "I can take Harry there."

When Zach opened his mouth to protest, Sirius cut him off. "You and your family would come along as well. I know by now that Harry would refuse to go anywhere unless your family went with him."

"We can't impose on you like that," Zach said.

"Why not? If it wasn't for Harry and one or two other things, I'd already be there. This gives me another excuse to go. I'd like visitors and I think both Harry and Tracey would like the chance to travel for the summer. Besides, my current home is a bit too… _occupied_ for my liking right now." Sirius said the last sentence with a slight sneer on his face. He was still upset that he had to return to that old place for even a few hours, let alone live there. It was even worse now that he had let the Order take up residence there.

"Where's this house?" Zach asked, giving in. Catherine would agree to go abroad in a heartbeat and he didn't want to take any risks with his children. All three of them.

"French countryside," Sirius replied. "The house is about this size, so there's definitely enough room for everyone."

"Thank you," Zach said quietly. The two men sat in silence for a few moments before…

"So, a goat?"

"It could be worse," Zach said. "Both of my parents had mules for theirs. You could imagine the jokes and the grumblings, especially when they were upset with each other."

Sirius laughed. Yeah, he could imagine that.

"I have to go," Sirius said as he stretched. "Meeting in thirty minutes."

Zach nodded. "Take the floo."

Sirius did just that and smirked when he strolled out of the fireplace and into the home where he grew up. Just the person he was wanting to talk to.

"You should wipe that expression off your face before it disgusts me further and I curse it off," Severus Snape drawled. "What do you want?"

"To update you on two of your students," Sirius said. "They'll be moving to France for the rest of the summer, so contact may be difficult."

Severus frowned at the information. He knew very well which two students Sirius was talking about.

"Why the sudden change in plans?" he asked. Sirius's expression turned serious for once in his life.

"There was a dementor attack on them, not even an hour ago. There were no injuries or negative side effects but it left the family feeling not quite safe, especially considering recent events.

"Probably for the best." Severus would never admit it but he was glad to know that Harry would be out of the country. He would be safer there and would continue to be safe unless the Dark Lord won Britain. Only once Britain was secure would Voldemort turn his sights on the rest of the world.

"You should stop by and see them before they leave," Sirius said quietly.

"Impossible," Severus sneered. "Unlike you, I do not have obscene amounts of free time. The other meetings I go to are just as frequent as these, if not more, and to keep the faculties I need, any time I have to myself is spent sleeping. It needs to be that way for I dare not slip up."

"You didn't need to take up that mantle again," Sirius sneered. Severus sneered back.

"Yes, I did. Do not try and comprehend my reasons for doing such because you wouldn't understand them, Black."

"I know one reason," Sirius snapped. "But you better think about whether or not that your position right now does him more harm than good."

Severus snarled at Sirius but before he could say anything, someone entering the house knocked over the umbrella stand and drew a certain painting's attention. As Sirius rushed to deal with the distraction, Severus stormed into the kitchen.

He knew what he was doing. He had his reasons for doing so and while Harry didn't know them yet, he would. Severus planned to explain everything to Harry this year, so the boy would finally know the entire truth.

Just in case something happened to Severus, he wanted Harry to know the truth before time ran out.


	42. Year 5: Part 2

France was marvelous, Harry and Tracey quickly learned. There was obviously a reason why Draco, Pansy, and all of their pureblood friends liked to spend their holidays in the country.

The two teenagers weren't completely oblivious though. They found it very suspicious that just days after their encounter with dementors that they were packing their bags to spend the rest of the summer abroad.

Their suspicions didn't stop the two teens from having a pleasant time, however. The house Sirius owned was in the countryside, so there were no muggles around to notice anything unusual. Since they were also outside of Britain and the reach of the British Ministry of Magic, they were free to use magic whenever they wanted.

"I think I know why all of our friends like traveling so much," Tracey said one morning as they were getting ready to spend the day in the nearest city. She was applying cosmetic charms as she got ready. It was so much easier than having to use actual make-up, which always made her skin feel oily.

Harry had to agree with her. Since he could use magic whenever he wanted, Sirius and Zach had taken to teaching Harry spells and charms that weren't taught in any class—things such as shaving spells and everyday grooming charms. Tracey had picked up cosmetic charms from her female friends but none of the boys in Harry's year talked about things like that. Most of them hadn't needed to learn those charms yet.

"We should go visit Draco or Pansy or Daphne and her sister," Tracey suggested to Harry as they ate breakfast later that week. She knew that the three families had to be somewhere nearby for the summer.

Before Harry could reply, Tracey's mother and father traded looks.

"I don't believe that they're in France this summer," Zach said carefully. "If I remember correctly, Lucius Malfoy said that he had work that required him to stay in Britain for the summer."

"Many families said similar things," Catherine affirmed. "I doubt that they would send their children abroad without any adults to chaperone them."

Tracey sighed. "Typical," she said. "The one summer we manage to get to France and no one else is around."

Harry gave a small smirk but it was mostly to hide his growing sense of discomfort. He had heard the rumors about the past, rumors about certain families being connected to Death Eater activities. Now, the first summer after Voldemort returned, families that had made a routine of traveling abroad broke that routine and stayed in Britain.

He didn't believe that it was just work keeping them in Britain.

"We should go flying today," Sirius announced as he entered the dining room. "The weather is perfect for it."

Harry grimaced at the thought.

"I'll watch Chloe," he quickly suggested, causing everyone to laugh at his nervous expression.

"You need to get over your fear of flying," Tracey said. "What are you going to do if you ever end up someplace with a Portkey or floo? You can't apparate yet."

"I'll walk," Harry retorted, causing everyone to laugh harder.

Despite his numerous protests, Sirius and Tracey managed to drag Harry from the house and into the broom shed, where there were at least ten brooms for them to choose from. Zach followed as his wife waved him off.

"You should try the Nimbus," Tracey suggested, grabbing a broom and forcing it into Harry's arms.

"A Comet is better for beginners," Zach said, plucking the broom easily from Harry's arms.

"But they also have the most problems," Tracey argued, grabbing a Nimbus for herself. "A Nimbus is less faulty."

"I'll take whichever one doesn't leave the ground," Harry offered. His comment was ignored.

A few minutes later, Harry found himself being forced onto a Comet at wand point. Zach and Sirius thought Tracey's efforts to get Harry to fly were hilarious and wouldn't stop smirking.

"Do you at least know how to work a broom?" Sirius asked.

"Of course I do," Harry said. "It's easy enough. I just have bad luck with flying and Quidditch games." He would have said more but everyone was pushing for him to kick off from the ground. With a sigh, Harry followed Sirius and Tracey's lead and kicked off.

It took a few minutes of hanging unsteadily in the air before Harry got the feel of the broom and how to balance on it. Once he felt more comfortable, he flew a bit higher in the air, slowly catching up to where Tracey and Sirius were racing with each other.

"Why do people actually like this?" Harry muttered to himself as he stared at the ground. When he began to get dizzy and a bit nauseous, he forced himself to look up and straight ahead.

Flying wasn't so bad when there were things to distract him from how high up he was, Harry realized. It also helped that there was no one trying to jinx his broom or anyone else's this time around.

Still, it would never be his favorite activity in the world.

Less than half an hour into it, Sirius started heading for the ground.

"Where are you going?" Harry yelled as he followed after him.

"Something's come up," Sirius said. "Don't worry about it. I'll be back before you know it."

"You said that yesterday," Harry commented. "And the day before that. And the day before that." Sirius looked sheepish, as if he hadn't realized he had been leaving that frequently.

"I have things to do back in Britain," he tried explaining. "A lot of them have been coming up without warning. I'm trying to spend as much time as I can here but I can't just leave things back there."

"Where do you go all the time? What was the point of bringing us here when you're just going to be gone practically every day?" Harry knew that he was probably being unnecessarily harsh to his godfather but he was starting to get sick of no one telling him anything. He didn't care about the big things but he was starting to hate it when the adults danced around certain topics like he and Tracey wouldn't be able to understand them. They hadn't even told he and Tracey _why_ they had been attacked by dementors.

Sirius sighed, looking unusually solemn.

"I know it's frustrating," he said. "I wish I could tell you more about where I'm going and what I keep having to do. It's not that I don't think you won't understand; it's more along the lines of keeping you safe. It may seem contradictory but in this case, the less you know, the better off you are. Especially now that the Ministry of Magic and the Daily Prophet are focused on Dumbledore and his activities. If they start thinking that you're a part of it, they'll turn on you and that's the last thing the Catherine and Zach want for you."

Harry frowned but didn't say anything more. Instead, he dismounted his broom and followed Sirius inside.

"I just wish you could be around more," Harry admitted once inside. "Especially since I didn't—" The teenager cut himself off before he could say anymore but Sirius seemed to know what he was about to say.

"I know it's hard," Sirius said. "I want to be around more and I know he does too. Believe me, he'd rather be here than where he's currently at."

"Is he safe?" Harry asked, wondering not for the first time how much Sirius truly knew about him and Professor Snape.

"As safe as he can be in his situation," Sirius replied.

* * *

"Crucio."

Severus barely blinked as the Death Eater standing just behind him fell to his knees, screaming in pain. He stared straight ahead, focusing on the throne-like chair just beyond Voldemort. He refused to meet the man's eyes unless ordered to but he also refused to stare weakly at the ground like a coward.

When the Death Eater stopped his tortured screams, Severus felt a probing in his mind. He tensed slightly and brought up memories of the past few Order meetings. Nothing confidential had been discussed while he had attended them so there was nothing he felt he needed to hide.

Besides, the more readily he gave up information on the Order, the less probing of other parts of his mind the Dark Lord would do.

The expression on the Dark Lord's face was impassive as he rummaged through the mind of Severus Snape. He discarded the useless information instantly and grabbed hold of little tidbits of information that he hadn't seen before.

Interactions with the Potter boy.

Penning letters signed with the initial S.

Each time he examined Snape's mind, there was always one or two more things that he was able to witness. It might have seemed like insignificant details but it allowed the Dark Lord to further analyze Severus's relationship with the boy. There was more to it than simply what the eye could see. Eventually he would have enough information to put a name to their type of relationship and then he could lure Severus into his trap.

"Severus," Voldemort hissed as he left the man's mind. "Keep an eye on Dumbledore for me this year. I want to know how the man acts inside the school compared to how he acts in front of the Ministry."

"Of course, my Lord," Severus murmured, still not meeting Voldemort's eyes.

"Keep me informed on Potter's actions as well," Voldemort ordered. "The boy must know I'm back. I want to know what he intends on doing with that information."

"Yes, my Lord," Severus repeated, bowing slightly.

"Leave," Voldemort hissed seconds later. There were quick sounds of wizards and witches apparating away. Severus hesitated for a few seconds so that he wasn't the first to leave. He had noticed that the ones that left first were always the ones that were tortured in the next meeting and he didn't want to be among them.

* * *

Sirius didn't return until after dinner that evening. Harry was sitting on his bed, reading one of his textbooks and finishing up some summer homework.

"Finally back?" he asked dully. Sirius sighed.

"I brought something that might cheer you up," he said. "You'll be getting this information days before everyone else, so you might as well admit that my leavings can be useful at times."

Harry took his eyes off of his textbook and looked at Sirius curiously. The man held out a letter and Harry took it eagerly.

Upon opening it, Harry's face fell as he didn't recognize the handwriting. Something fell out of the letter but Harry barely paid any attention to it. He was too busy reading the letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_In their fifth year of study, two students from each house are selected to be prefects and to represent not only their year, but also their house. This is a great honor and we are happy to announce that you have been selected to be the Slytherin boys' prefect this year. Included in this letter is your badge, which you will be required to wear at all times as part of your uniform._

_As prefect, you will have several duties that you will take up this year. All of these duties will be explained to you on the Hogwarts Express on your journey to school. Please report promptly to the Prefects' Cabin once the train leaves the station so that all of the necessary information can be relayed to you._

_Congratulations once again on this honor,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Harry glanced down at the item that had fallen out of the letter. It was a silver and green badge, with the Slytherin snake and a large P engraved on it. He blinked and ran his fingers over the badge.

"Seriously?" he asked, looking up at Sirius. "I've been made a prefect?"

Sirius nodded, grinning.

"Dumbledore gave it to me himself," he said. After the news registered, Harry began to grin just as widely as his godfather.

"What are you two grinning about?" Tracey asked as she came out of her room. Harry held up his new badge as a way of explaining their expressions. Tracey's eyes widened as she recognized it.

"Congratulations!" she said, barreling into the room. She grabbed Harry by the arm and started pulling him into the hallway and down the stairs. "Come on, let's tell Mom and Dad!"

"Let's tell Mom and Dad what?" Catherine Davis asked as she stood at the foot of the stairs, holding Chloe in her arms.

"Harry's been made a prefect," Tracey announced. Catherine smiled.

"Congratulations dear," she said as Harry held out the prefect's badge as proof. "I think this calls for a celebration."

"Celebration?"

"We're going out for dessert," Catherine decided. "Get your coats and let's go."

It wasn't until later that night when Harry realized that this had been the first time he had celebrated a personal achievement with people he could consider family.

He just wished that his only biological family member had been there to celebrate with him.

"Does the headmaster choose who the prefects are? Or do the heads of the houses?" Harry asked Tracey as they got ready for bed that night. There was another thing that had been bugging him since he had gotten the badge.

"I think the professors compile a list of students in the year they think deserve the responsibility and title and the headmaster chooses from that list," Tracey replied. "Why?"

Harry shrugged as he glanced over to where his badge was sitting on the bathroom counter. "I'm just surprised I was chosen to be the boys' prefect instead of Draco," he explained. Tracey snorted.

"I'm not," she said. "Professor Snape seems to like you, you get decent grades, and you can be responsible when it's called for. You should know as well as I do that Draco would probably abuse his power. He can be a prat sometimes."

"He's getting better," Harry murmured. Tracey rolled her eyes.

"But that doesn't mean he doesn't have his moments," she said. "If you're pitying Draco, don't worry about it. I'm sure Professor Snape wouldn't have passed him over for some other opportunity. He was probably named Quidditch Captain. If I remember right, the position was open now that Flint's left Hogwarts."

"It was?" Harry asked. He hadn't remembered that but if he was being honest, he couldn't remember who was on the Slytherin Quidditch team to begin with. Tracey laughed and shook her head.

"Some things never change," she said. Harry glowered at her before turning to go to his bedroom. Less than a minute later, he was forced to return to the bathroom to collect his prefect's badge, causing Tracey to laugh even louder.

* * *

On the morning of September 1st, Catherine and Zach apparated Tracey and Harry to platform nine and three-quarters. Sirius had picked up their books a few days earlier when he had returned to Britain for another meeting. It was their first time back in the country since they had left it earlier in the summer.

"Quickly, on the train," Zach told his children, noting the time. They had mere minutes before the train left the station. "Don't worry about your trunks. I'll take care of them."

Tracey hugged her parents goodbye and after a few seconds of hesitation, Harry did the same. Then they stepped up into the train and into the crowd of students rushing around, trying to locate compartments or friends.

"I'm going to look for the others," Tracey said. Harry nodded as he pinned his prefect's badge on his uniform.

"I'll meet up with you later," he promised. "And please, tell everyone where I am right away. Don't let them start speculating and starting rumors."

"No promises," Tracey said with a smirk. Harry groaned. He should have said nothing. Now he had given her ideas.

When Harry found the Prefects' Cabin, he noticed that he wasn't the first one to arrive. There were three other fifth years in the compartment.

"Harry!" Pansy greeted him. "I knew it would be you when Draco only received the Quidditch Captain's badge."

"Congratulations," Harry told her as he sat beside her. He was thankful that Pansy would be his female counterpart. She was a bit easier to work with than Daphne Greengrass.

Sitting across from them was Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom. Hermione was watching him and Pansy carefully while Neville seemed petrified by his appointment.

"Congratulations," Harry repeated, directing it at the two Gryffindors. They both smiled and nodded.

Within minutes the four were joined by the other four fifth-year prefects. Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff and Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil from Ravenclaw.

"Are the sixth and seventh years not joining us?" Ernie asked as the Head Boy and Girl stepped into the compartment to start the meeting.

"They already know their duties," came the reply. "They're meeting us later in the train ride."

"As fifth year prefects, your duties are relatively simple," the Head Girl announced. "Patrol the train corridors for a few minutes every other hour and hand out punishments for those that are misbehaving. Misbehaving includes using magic in the corridors, playing pranks, or bullying younger students."

"Once you get to Hogwarts," the Head Boy continued, "you'll show the first years to the house common rooms and their dorms, as well as give them basic information. If you have any free periods once classes start, you'll be expected to patrol the corridors. In the hour before curfew, you'll account for the first through fourth years of your house and make sure they are in the common room or dorms before after hours starts. Anyone that is late gets a detention."

"You can't take or give points but you can assign detentions," the Head Girl took over. "All detentions you give will be reviewed by the professors and may be dismissed if the professors feel like they were unnecessarily given. Aside from the duties we just listed, fifth year prefects are merely meant to be a comforting person to go to if the younger students are having any difficulties. If something comes up that you can't handle, you should approach either us or your head of house."

The two seventh years traded looks.

"That's really all we have to say," the Head Boy admitted. "You can go now and find your friends. Just remember to patrol the corridors every two hours or so."

"This is going to be easy," Pansy muttered to Harry as they left the compartment. She tugged him in the opposite direction of Neville and Hermione. "I thought we would have a lot more things to do but I guess they know it's our year for O.W.L.s. Shall we go find the others?"

Harry nodded.

"How are things with Draco?" he asked as they made their way through the train corridors.

"As well as can be," Pansy stated. "Both of our families are happy that we're dating and we've worked it out as best we can. He's still not thrilled but I think he understands that it's necessary, especially considering who his parents are. I don't think he could have worse parents for this situation. Neither of them are what you'd call understanding."

Harry grimaced and the pair stepped into the next section of the train. Pansy sighed loudly as a group of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were blocking their way.

Instead of asking them to move, Harry focused on a girl that they seemed to be surrounding. She was reaching for a set of books in a Hufflepuff boy's arms but he tugged them away from her.

"What's going on?" Harry demanded as he approached the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs that were preventing the girl from getting through.

"It's just Loony Lovegood," one of the Gryffindors muttered, fingering his wand. "No one that would interest you, _Slytherin_."

Harry glared at the boy and pushed him into a compartment. The students already inside looked startled at his appearance.

"Give her back her books," Harry ordered the others. "And let her through. It's too early to start this kind of thing."

"What do you care?" one of the Hufflepuffs asked. "She's a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin."

"Her house shouldn't matter," Harry snapped. "She's your classmate and you should treat every classmate with respect. If you don't and I catch you doing something like this again, I'll make sure that you serve detention with Professor Snape."

The group of fourth-years shuddered at the thought. The Hufflepuff quickly shoved the books back into the blonde girl's arms and darted away, his friends following him.

Harry turned away when it appeared that the blonde-haired girl didn't appear to be in any distress. Pansy was standing at the door to the compartment that the fifth year Slytherins had claimed.

"Thank you, Harry Potter," the girl called after him in a light airy voice. Harry jerked in surprise that she knew his name—after all they had never met before and he hadn't actually introduced himself—but he nodded awkwardly.

"Yeah, sure. No problem," he replied. "Don't let them do that to you again, okay?"


	43. Year 5: Part 3

"About time," Blaise drawled as Harry and Pansy entered the carriage. "We were beginning to think that Tracey was right and that you had missed the train again, Harry."

Harry glared at his foster sister, whose face revealed nothing.

"You're a mighty help," he muttered as he sat beside her.

"How was the prefects' meeting?" Daphne asked.

"Pretty boring," Pansy replied. "And we were given the horrifying news that we have show the firsties around."

Both Harry and Draco rolled their eyes at her words.

"It won't be that bad," Harry said. "And don't focus on that part. Focus on the punishments that you're now able to give."

Pansy smirked. There were some bright sides to her new position.

It seemed that as the years went by, the train ride to Hogwarts passed more quickly. It took the same amount of time that it always did but the hours no longer seemed as long when Harry had more things to focus on.

This train ride went particularly quickly with Harry catching up with friends and having to juggle his new prefect duties.

If Harry had been nervous about taking up his role and handing out possible punishments, his experience with the bullies before he had met up with his friends quashed any of his worries. His only regret about the encounter was that he hadn't learned the girl's name before he had followed Pansy.

When the train arrived in Hogsmeade, Harry and Pansy were one of the last off the train, having had to make sure that every other student had disembarked.

"Get going," Pansy snapped at a set of lingering third year Gryffindors. "Honestly, I've seen turtles that move faster than you."

"You can't tell us what to do," one of the girls in the group said. Pansy quirked an eyebrow and gestured to her badge.

"According to this, I can," she said. "Now move or you'll have a detention before you even get to the castle."

"Don't make me tell you off for bullying too," Harry muttered, giving Pansy a sidelong glance.

"It's not bullying," Pansy replied. "It's more like frightening encouragement."

Harry gave her a look that clearly said he didn't believe a single word that came out of her mouth.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked. "You've never acted like this before."

Pansy refused to meet his eyes as she answered. "Nothing. It was just a rough summer. I think I'm still on edge from it a bit."

A rough summer? That didn't sound good. Harry was about to ask when something clicked in his mind.

Voldemort.

Of course. It was always going to be him.

"Well, we're at Hogwarts now," Harry said, trying to sound cheerful. "Things will get better now that we're here."

"Doubtful," Pansy muttered. "In case you've forgotten, we have O.W.L.s this year. It's not going to be an easy year."

"When has it ever been?" Harry asked. "Come on, let's catch the last carriage so we can get to the feast."

The house tables were nearly full when Harry and Pansy entered the Great Hall but their friends had saved them seats. Harry sat down gratefully, already feeling exhausted.

"Let's hope the Sorting doesn't take forever," Theodore commented dully. "It's not like anything interesting ever happens during the Sorting."

Harry was barely paying attention. He was scanning the Head table, where all the professors were seated. There was an empty chair where Hagrid normally sat. Professor Snape sat next to Professor McGonagall. Harry frowned when he noticed that the man looked years older than he did at the beginning of the summer.

He wasn't the only one who noticed. Daphne nearly gasped when she spotted their head of house.

"He looks so old," she whispered sadly. "I've never seen him look so tired."

"A lot of the professors look older this year," Theodore agreed. "Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick, especially."

"But none of them look as bad as Professor Snape," Daphne murmured.

As the whispers started, Harry turned his attention to the witch sitting on the other side of his father. He cringed when his eyes landed on her outfit. It was so bright and…

Hideous, to be frank.

"Hasn't anyone told her that robes are supposed to go over cardigans?" Tracey whispered in Harry's ear. The boy snorted at her comment.

"I don't think so," he replied. "Want to be the first?"

"Not if she's our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Tracey muttered. "Because if she is, she has to have some qualifications that made the headmaster give her the position."

"She doesn't," Draco interjected. "She's from the Ministry. My father works with her from time to time."

"And? What does he say she's like?" Tracey asked eagerly.

"A simpering, annoying imbecile who will do whatever Minister Fudge tells her to do. She takes every word out of his mouth as gospel and her personality is as hideous as her clothing choices," Draco said with a sneer. "I doubt we'll be learning much this year—again."

The fifth year Slytherins sighed. Their hopes were already dashed. And it was such an important year for their studies.

As they had been talking, Professor McGonagall entered with the Sorting Hat and the first years. Harry looked over the group, noting how tiny the first years seemed. He would need to pay attention to those who were in Slytherin since he had a feeling he would be dealing with them a lot this year. Students always seemed to have the most problems during their first year at Hogwarts.

The Sorting Hat's song sent shivers up Harry's spine and he forced himself not to dwell on it as the Sorting began.

"Abercrombie, Euan," Professor McGonagall called, starting the process.

After a few more names, where the first years were divided up relatively equally, there came a hat stall. After the student was eventually sorted into Hufflepuff, Professor McGonagall called the next name.

"Entwhistle, Sarah."

"Probably related to Kevin Entwhistle in Ravenclaw," Blaise muttered. "He was saying that his sister was starting this year."

The hat was on Sarah's head for only thirty seconds before it was announcing it's decision.

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Hey Theo," Blaise said quietly as Sarah sat down at the end of the table with the other first years. "Isn't Entwhistle a muggleborn?"

"Yes," Theodore replied, eyes narrowing. "Yes, he is."

Others quickly made the connection as well and the whispers started. Within minutes, it was soon known to the entire school that a muggleborn student had been sorted into Slytherin house. Sarah's own brother looked horrified by her placement, though Harry thought that was probably due to the reputation Slytherin had for treating muggleborns in the school.

Harry kept his eye on the end of the table, keeping Sarah within his line of sight. He knew his housemates. There were a few that were bound to take offense that she was in their house and wouldn't hesitate to make that clear. He had a feeling that the other Slytherin prefects wouldn't put a stop to anything—most of them were purebloods, after all—making him the only one with enough power to do anything.

"I'll make sure she settles in," Tracey murmured, just loud enough for only Harry to hear. "I can't make any promises but I'll try my best."

Harry nodded and started filling his plate as food appeared on the table. The Sorting had finished, giving Slytherin fifteen new students to take the place of the former seventh years that had graduated back in June.

Harry thought that the only interesting thing about tonight would be Sarah Entwhistle's sorting but he was proven wrong when Professor Dumbledore started giving his yearly reminders after the food was gone. He was only just beginning when the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor interrupted him.

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore, for those kind words of welcome," the woman who had been introduced as Professor Umbridge stated. Many students flinched as she spoke.

"You didn't mention her voice was as awful as her clothes as well," Pansy muttered to Draco.

"I've never heard her speak before," Draco replied, keeping his eyes on the woman.

As Professor Umbridge started to speak, Harry instantly felt like he was five-years-old again.

"Doesn't she understand that we're teenagers, not children just barely out of diapers?" he hissed under his breath. His comment drew silent snickers of amusement, causing other students to stare at them. Professor Umbridge's gaze landed on their table and Harry tried to look as attentive as possible.

By the end of Umbridge's speech, Harry felt himself cringing every time the woman cleared her throat. He was positive that her "hem hem's" would give him new material for nightmares.

"I think Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape might finally get along for once," Daphne murmured, catching the two professors sharing knowing looks. "If only to spite this woman."

The fifth years of Slytherin couldn't help but agree.

"So everyone's in agreement that this woman is going to be horrible and we're going to be miserable this entire year?" Tracey asked as the speeches finished and the students were allowed to leave. Her group of friends nodded in agreement.

Draco sneered. "Unfortunately, we still have to pretend to like her," he said.

"Why?" Pansy looked shocked at his comment. "How can you possibly consider the idea of liking that woman?"

"Because she's a professor with Ministry connections. She can get permission to do things that other professors can't," Draco explained. "If we don't pretend to like her, she can make our lives hell in ways that no other professor can."

Harry shuddered at the thought. He didn't think he could pretend to like Umbridge, so he would have to rely on his yearmates to help him out in any situation he might get into.

"Let's get the first years," he told Pansy, who sighed but nodded.

"First years!" she called.

"First years!" Harry said loudly, gesturing for their friends to go. "Follow us. We'll show you to the common room."

Harry allowed Pansy to take the lead while he wandered near the back of the group, making sure that none of the first years went off exploring on their own.

"There's actual dungeons?" Harry heard one of the boys ask in surprise. "Why are you taking us to the dungeons? Is this some sort of trick?"

Harry and Pansy laughed.

"Your Potions classes will be held in the dungeons, taught by Professor Snape," Harry explained. "They also hold the entrance to the Slytherin common room."

"We're going to live in dungeons?" the boy asked in disbelief. "I read that Slytherin House held some of the wealthiest witches and wizards of our time and we're going to live in a dungeon?"

"No, we're going to live under a lake," Harry informed him, laughing when the boy's eyes widened even further.

"Relax," Pansy called over her shoulder. "You'll soon learn that looks can be deceiving. Location doesn't matter as long as what's inside holds the best of the best. Like you said, Slytherin house was the house of not only the wealthiest wizards and witches, but also some of the purest. They would never let their fellow Slytherins live in squalor."

The Slytherin common room had never been extravagant or gaudy but Harry had recently learned that everything in it was of the highest quality money could buy. Anything that showed signs of wear and tear or of age was quickly replaced if it wasn't a book.

It was clear that the first years didn't believe the prefects from their faces.

"The password is Serpensortia," Pansy announced when they arrived at the common room entrance. "Remember it and never tell anyone else or write it down. If there is a suspicion that the password has been made known to anyone outside of Slytherin house, it will be changed promptly. Only Slytherins are allowed in here. If you make friends from other houses, go elsewhere. Never bring them here."

Harry briefly remembered the winter holidays of his second year, when strangers had entered the Slytherin common room. As soon as they left, all of the Slytherins were given notice of the password being changed.

It was just as well, he thought. He had hated that particular password.

Professor Snape was waiting for the first years. Up close, he looked even older than he had in the Great Hall.

Harry had never paid much attention to the speeches Professor Snape gave at the beginning of every year but he noted that this year, the speech was almost word for word the speech he had heard during first year. This year, though, the speech held more meaning.

Never abandon another Slytherin.

Show a united front.

Finally, respect the lifestyles of others. Respect where they come from, no matter what.

Harry hoped that everyone in the common room was listening. Otherwise Professor Snape would experience a lot of problems this year, problems that he shouldn't have to deal with.

Looking at the lines on his father's face, Harry promised silently to do his best to make sure that Professor Snape didn't have to deal with anything more than was strictly necessary.

As soon as his speech was finished, Professor Snape left the Slytherin common room, leaving the prefects behind to get all of the first years sorted. Harry had forgotten how confusing the first night seemed when he was eleven.

When he finally got the chance to stumble to his bed, Harry nearly sat on a package someone had left in the center of his bed. He frowned, not having expected anything.

The prefect unfolded the note sitting on top of the package, eyes widening slightly as he read the words.

_Congratulations on becoming prefect._

_S._

Feeling more at ease, Harry closed the curtains around his bed and opened the package. It was a book.

Harry laughed when he read the title.

_Everything to Know About O.W.L.s_

It seemed that despite everything that had happened over the summer, his father was still willing to take the time to show that he could care about what was happening in Harry's life.


	44. Year 5: Part 4

The first day of classes was nightmarish, Harry discovered. If he hadn't been aware that this was the year he would take his O.W.L.s, that fact would have been firmly ingrained into his mind by the end of the day.

Every single professor he had a class with started by reminding the fifth years of the looming exams and many continued remarking about it through the entire period.

It was only the first day and Harry was already stressed beyond belief.

He wished it was only the increased intensity of his classes but he had two other concerns. Professor Snape and Hagrid.

Harry had known that his father was looking older and tired but that wasn't the only change. Professor Snape's irritability had also grown over the summer. For the first time, even his own Slytherins were cautious of the man. By the end of the first Potions lesson, Harry was slightly scared of his father's temper, which was a first.

His second concern didn't register until Harry's first Care of Magical Creatures lesson of the year. Although the large man hadn't been at the welcome feast, Harry had expected that he would have some big lesson planned to start the year off.

Much to his surprise, Hagrid was not there to teach Care of Magical Creatures during Harry's first lesson. Instead, it was Professor Grubbly-Plank, who had a no nonsense lesson planned.

"Where's Hagrid?" Harry asked before the lesson started. Most of the other students in the class hadn't arrived yet.

"Don't you mind," Professor Grubbly-Plank replied. "He has a good reason for being gone and until he comes back, I'll be in charge of his lessons."

As she turned away, Harry sighed in frustration. A sneer formed on his lips as he heard the substitute professor mutter under her breath that Hagrid's absence was probably for the best and that this way, students might actually pass their O.W.L.s for once since he started teaching.

"Careful Harry," Pansy remarked, catching the sneer. "You're starting to look like Draco."

Draco, overhearing his name, glanced over at him and rolled his eyes as he caught Harry's horrified look.

"It's not such a bad thing," he muttered. "You could stand to learn a few things, Potter."

"I'm good, thanks," Harry drawled and groaned when Professor Grubbly-Plank started her lecture about O.W.L.s.

The only lesson Harry came close to enjoying that first day was Ancient Runes. Their focus of the year would be warding and that was something he had been looking forward to since starting the class back in third year.

Despite how awful his first classes of the day were, nothing could compare to Harry's first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year.

He had an ominous feeling as soon as he laid eyes on Professor Umbridge's pink cardigan.

"Good morning, class!" Professor Umbridge said as soon as everyone was seated and the door to the classroom had closed. When she didn't get an adequate respond, Umbridge actually started to teach the class how to reply.

The class quickly went downhill after that. The words Ministry approved curriculum and theory-centered classes made Harry nervous. For some reason, the idea of the Ministry of Magic being placed in charge of this class made him wonder what they had planned for the future and the younger years.

An image of first years learning nothing but theory and Ministry propaganda without ever picking up their wands and actually learning to cast spells flashed in his mind.

Brain washing. That's ultimately what this was, Harry realized. The Ministry was going to try and brain wash them.

None of Harry's housemates were going to speak up. They were just going to suffer silently throughout the year, trying to keep under the radar so the Ministry wouldn't start paying attention to them or their families. While not all Slytherins were Death Eaters, nearly all of them had something that they didn't want the Ministry looking into.

Unfortunately, the Gryffindors they were sharing a class with didn't have the same thoughts about not drawing attention to themselves.

"I have a question about the course aims," Hermione said once she was acknowledged by the new professor. "There's nothing in them about actually practicing or using the spells we'll be learning."

"It is the Ministry's belief that with proper study of theory, there should be no need to practice the spells themselves," Professor Umbridge replied, starting to frown. "With the proper study, students should be able to perform the spells perfectly if the need should ever arise to use them—which I doubt will ever be the case."

"But isn't there a practical part to our O.W.L. exam?" Hermione questioned. "We'll need to use the spells then, unless you want us to fail."

"With the proper study—" Professor Umbridge began but Hermione cut her off, to everyone's surprise.

"This isn't the proper study for everyone," she said clearly. "I know there are some in this classroom that won't understand the theory part and can only learn through actual practice, not just copying down notes. Besides, isn't the whole point of this class to practice spells since we can't practice them in the hallways or the common areas? Where are we supposed to learn if we can't do it in the classroom."

Umbridge was now plainly glaring at Hermione. Her mouth twitched a few times before words actually came out.

"I believe, Miss Granger, that you are not qualified to decide what the aims for this class are. You are merely a student, not a Ministry-trained educational expert."

"Are you one?" Hermione asked, causing some of her fellow Gryffindors to gasp at her bluntness. Umbridge scowled at her.

"Detention, Miss Granger," the professor ordered and pulled out a roll of parchment, which she quickly began writing on. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. Clearly she hadn't expected things to go so far. "And take this to Professor McGonagall."

Hermione's face was red with humiliation as she was forced to walk to the front of the room to take the note. Her fellow housemates started protesting as the prefect rushed out of the room.

While they were protesting, Harry felt himself getting to his feet.

Harry started to walk toward the door but before he could actually leave the room and go after Hermione, Professor Umbridge stopped him.

"Mr. Potter, if you take another step, you'll be serving detention with me as well."

Any other student would probably have turned around and sat back down. In most circumstances, Harry would have but he couldn't help but remember Hermione's face as she had been publicly humiliated, given a detention—something she would have seen as the worst possible thing, especially now that she was a prefect—and sent to seen her head of house.

Harry just wanted to make sure that she was all right.

So he left the room, grimacing as it hit him that it was only the first day of classes and he now had a detention. Not a great example to show the younger students.

Then again, if it prevented them from being brain washed by Umbridge and the Ministry…

Harry didn't have a chance to try and find Hermione before he ran into a professor.

"Mr. Potter, aren't you supposed to be in class right now?" came a drawling voice.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry affirmed as he turned to face his father. "I left early, though."

"Why?" Professor Snape didn't look happy.

"Professor Umbridge humiliated a student in front of the class and sent her out of the room after assigning her a detention. Even though Hermione isn't in Slytherin, I wanted to make sure she was okay. Though, I might have earned a detention in the process."

Harry flinched as Professor Snape's eyes darkened, filling with rage.

"My office, now," he ordered. Harry nodded silently and followed the man, hoping that Hermione wouldn't get into too much trouble from Professor McGonagall as well.

"Detention, on your first day back," Professor Snape said once they were secluded in his office. "Do not make me regret giving your name to Professor Dumbledore."

"It wasn't intentional," Harry mumbled. "I acted without thinking."

"You are in Slytherin. Slytherins should not be acting without thinking. We are ambitious and cunning, not rash. You especially should not be acting without thinking around Dolores Umbridge. She is a dangerous woman."

"If she's so dangerous, then why is she in the school?" Harry asked. "Why is the Ministry suddenly getting involved with what's being taught at Hogwarts?"

"The answer should be obvious if you look at the past few years of your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes," Professor Snape said, staring at his son in warning. "Just last year alone should provide you with plenty of examples."

"So it has nothing to do with Dumbledore?" Harry asked. "And trying to keep him silent."

Severus sighed. "The Ministry has plenty of objectives that they wish to achieve while they have a presence at Hogwarts. Keep that in mind whenever you have a class with Umbridge and when you're serving detention with her."

"Couldn't you do something about that?" Harry asked, hoping that there was another way. "Say that I had information to rely to Hermione about prefect duties? Or couldn't I serve detention with you or any other professor?"

"It's not that simple, Mr. Potter," Severus replied coolly. "I cannot control that woman or any decisions she might make. I doubt Professor Dumbledore can fully control her."

Harry nodded sullenly and got to his feet as the bell rang, signaling the end of that particular class period.

"What were you thinking?" Tracey burst out when Harry arrived back in the Slytherin common room. He had grabbed a quick lunch from the kitchens before retreating to the common room to try and get a head start on some of his piles of homework. Unfortunately for him, it seemed like all of his friends had the same idea. "Going after Granger like that? She's not even a Slytherin."

"We're acquaintances," Harry said. "And she's a fellow prefect. I would do the same for any of you."

"Because we're your friends," Theo interjected. "She's not. She's just an acquaintance, like you just admitted. She shouldn't be that, even. She's just a mudblood."

Harry winced at the word.

"You might subscribe to that belief, but I don't," he growled out. "She didn't deserve what Umbridge did to her. No one does."

Lunch forgotten, Harry grabbed his bag and stormed out of the common room. He didn't want to deal with any of that. So instead, he spent the rest of the day studying in the library when not in classes.

The second day of classes, Harry noticed something unusual. The professors of his classes that day were going out of their way to actually treat him decently. Usually Harry could just blend into the background, only earning the occasional remark and rarely earning points. However, that day alone, he had earned at least ten or twenty points in every class.

"Whatever you're doing, keep it up," Theodore Nott said when Harry brought it up to his friends in the corridors. It seemed that Harry was partially forgiven for going after Hermione—or in Theo's words, a mudblood. "It's nice that Slytherins are earning points in classes besides Potions for once." With that, he broke away from the group to head to Arithmancy.

"Maybe it's because you're a prefect now?" Tracey suggested as they headed out to Herbology.

Hermione, who was trailing behind them, snorted in amusement.

"I doubt that's it," she said as Harry and Tracey glanced back at her. "Professor McGonagall hasn't treated Neville and I any differently since our appointment and Professor Flitwick hasn't either."

"Then do you have any ideas, Granger?" Tracey asked, raising an eyebrow. Hermione nodded.

"I think they learned about what he did to Umbridge," she said quietly. "As far as I can tell, none of the other professors like her and they'll approve of any student that will make her life difficult. They also understood why he did what he did."

Harry groaned at the thought. He hadn't been clearly thinking at the time and he didn't like the idea that he was being rewarded for something he hadn't meant to do.

"Don't complain," Tracey whispered. "It's nice for a change so don't complain. I'd say do it again next class period but I don't think Professor Snape would agree with that suggestion.

Harry chuckled. No, Professor Snape certainly wouldn't.

Harry and Hermione had been assigned detention on separate nights. Hermione was having detention with Umbridge on Tuesday night while Harry didn't have his until Thursday.

It was just as well. It would allow him to focus on his ever-growing pile of homework. Just by that alone, Harry knew that this year wouldn't be as nearly enjoyable as last year.

It might even be worse than second year, when he had to deal with the threat of the Heir of Slytherin hanging over the castle.

Homework had never seemed overwhelming to Harry before but something was different this year. Maybe it was the fact that he had other things on his mind, like the occasional twinge of his scar. Or that all of his free periods were now taken up by him having to patrol the corridors with Pansy.

"Harry Potter?"

Or maybe it was the fact that for the past two nights, every time he sat down in the common room to do his homework, he was interrupted by some of the younger Slytherins.

Resisting a sigh, Harry looked up from his parchment.

"Yes?" he asked, looking at the second year.

"I was wondering if you could give me some advice about Transfiguration," the second year said, holding out her textbooks. Harry nodded quietly and gestured for the student to sit.

By the end of the night, Harry had only managed to scribble down one essay for his classes the next day and he was sure that it was a few inches too short. The rest of his time had been taken up by five requests for advice on homework, a pair of students looking to him to settle a quarrel, three conversations about dealing with students from other houses, and two first years dealing with homesickness. Harry nearly sighed in relief when Pansy entered the common room with the rest of the Slytherins who had been studying in other parts of the castle.

"Long night?" she asked once the younger students started gathering their things and getting ready for bed.

"Not quite done yet," Harry remarked, looking down at his homework that he had to turn in tomorrow.

"Should have started it sooner," Pansy said as she brought out her own homework. Everyone else in their year had turned in already.

"I tried," Harry protested. "But every time I would start something, someone had something to ask me."

"I guess we always took the prefects for granted," Pansy said. "I have a handful of girls come up to me each night to talk about every sort of problem. It gets a bit tiring after awhile."

"Do you just get girls coming up to you? Or do the younger boys as well?"

Pansy shook her head. "Just girls. I think normally the girls go to the girl prefect and the boys to the male prefect. It's just the way things are."

Harry grimaced.

"Five girls came to me tonight instead of waiting for you," he stated. Pansy laughed.

"That's adorable," she said. Harry raised an eyebrow as he started his second essay of the night.

"What's adorable about it?" he asked. "Are you purposefully scaring them off for less things to do?"

"Of course not," Pansy replied. "I think it's just that a few of the younger girls have crushes on you."

Harry's cheeks turned bright red. "W-what?" he asked. Pansy laughed again.

"I've heard them talking after hours," she said. "In the dorms. Sharing all of the information they know about Harry Potter and how dashing and kind he is. How he isn't the typical Slytherin and that just makes him so much more mysterious."

Harry's ears were burning. "You're joking," he pleaded. "Tell me you're joking."

"I wish I was," Pansy said. "It's kind of cute, to be honest."

"Maybe to you," Harry muttered.


	45. Year 5: Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even begin to convey how excited I was to write and post this chapter. The conversation in it between Severus and Harry is what sparked my need to write this story. Since its conception, this story has changed a LOT, but I'm very proud of it. Enjoy!

Thursday night came all too quickly for Harry. After dinner, he parted from his friends and began heading towards Umbridge's office, eager to get his detention over with.

"Come in, Mr. Potter," the new professor called when he knocked on her door. Harry entered slowly and cringed at the sight that awaited him. The room appeared as if it had been purposely decorated to be overly feminine and sweet-looking. It didn't look like an office befitting a woman of Umbridge's age, let alone a professor.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter," Umbridge stated. Harry nodded stiffly.

"Good evening, Professor," he replied as evenly as possible.

"Take a seat," the woman said, gesturing toward a chair and desk in the corner of her office. "I take it that you have thought about your actions during class?"

"I have," Harry said mildly.

"And?"

"I was going to check on Hermione to make sure that she was okay," Harry said. "And truthfully, there was nothing wrong with what I did. Students are allowed to leave if they are uncomfortable with the lessons a professor presents."

The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor scowled at his statement.

"From what I understand, you're making a habit of doing so," she said. "From what I've heard, you left class numerous times last year."

"The man who was impersonating Professor Moody introduced fourth years to the Unforgivables," Harry said. "My parents died at the hands of one of those curses, if you'll recall. I believe my actions are explainable. Besides, wouldn't you agree that it was best that I did? That man was a Death Eater and was putting the Imperius Curse on students under the guise of helping them learn how to throw it off. Imagine the uproar that it would have caused had the population learned that The-Boy-Who-Lived had been put under the Imperius Curse. It would have been disastrous for both Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic."

Umbridge's scowl grew even larger.

"You may have had your reasons, Mr. Potter, but I will not tolerate you making a habit of leaving class and putting ideas in other students' heads. You disobeyed me and I have to make a point. Therefore, you will be writing lines for me tonight." As she spoke the words, the professor handed Harry a quill. Harry frowned at the sight but didn't see any other options that he had. With great reluctance, he took the quill, wondering what it was that made this quill special enough for Umbridge to want to use it during detentions.

Each professor had routine detention work that was never enjoyable for students. Professor Snape favored cleaning cauldrons by hand. Professor Sprout made students pull weeds in the greenhouses. Professor Flitwick had students putting away books by hand in the library. Professor McGonagall sent students to Madam Pomfrey or to Filch for cleaning work. Rarely did professors assign students to write lines, particularly with specific quills.

It was very suspicious to Harry.

"What am I to write? And how many times?" he asked, sitting down at the desk in the corner. Umbridge thought for a moment before responding.

"Obedience to authority is the foundation of character. Write that until I feel that the message has… _sunk_ in."

Harry raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, he began to write, conveniently ignoring the fact that no ink had been provided.

As he wrote, Harry quickly learned the secret of the quill he had been given.

Not that it was hard to figure out. It was easy to notice the sharp pain in his hand and the words slowly being engraved into his skin.

Harry was pretty sure that there were laws against this sort of thing but he couldn't currently do anything about it. If he raised a fuss, Umbridge could come up with something worse and if he tried to leave…

Well, there was a reason the desk was positioned where it was. It would be easy for Umbridge to block his access to the door.

Harry didn't let on that he was in pain. He wouldn't give Umbridge that satisfaction. She didn't deserve to see any weakness and his Slytherin pride wouldn't allow him to reveal any to that horrid woman.

It was just before curfew when he was released. By that time, the worded wounds on his hand were just barely closed. Harry was sure that if he closed his hand to make a fist, the pieces of skin holding the wounds closed would split open.

At least that was his only detention. Harry would try his best to ensure that there would be no repeats.

Curfew came and went. The Slytherin prefect wandered the halls, not wanting to return to the common room with his sore hand. He could go to Professor Snape to get it healed but the teenager didn't want to deal with the questions that he knew would be asked. Similar questions would be asked if he went to the Hospital Wing.

Luckily, there was another place Harry could go. If he got caught on his way there, he could easily say that he had run late doing his weekly curfew rounds. Professors rarely questioned prefects for being out after hours, he had heard.

With that in mind, Harry headed down to the kitchens, keeping his hand held firmly at his side. He would get the house-elves to help heal his hand. At the very least, they could make it so it wouldn't be painful to write.

"Where do you think you're going, Mr. Potter?" a cool voice drawled. "I believe the Slytherin common room is in the other direction."

Harry stiffened as he recognized Professor Snape's voice.

"I was just going to make sure that there were no students in the kitchens," he said, turning to face the Potions professor.

"The Hufflepuff prefects have already made that check," Professor Snape stated. "Just like they always have."

Harry's face reddened and he tried to think of another excuse for why he would be going to the kitchen.

"The truth, if you will?"

"I didn't want to bother you, Professor," Harry admitted. "Or Madam Pomfrey."

Snape's eyes darkened at the words.

"If I remember correctly, you had detention with our newest professor tonight," he murmured. "Show me what she did."

Harry couldn't bring himself to defy a direct order. Reluctantly he brought up his hand and held it out to be examined. He winced when the older man grabbed it tightly and manipulated it for a better look.

"Come with me," Professor Snape ordered, dropping the hand. Harry massaged the skin lightly as he followed.

"This wasn't exactly legal, was it?" Harry asked after a few quiet minutes. The door to his head of house's office was just in sight.

"Not even in the muggle world are those types of punishments allowed," Professor Snape replied, voice tight with hidden anger. "However, I feel that in this case, the Ministry will do nothing if we bring any complaints to them about her. When it comes to Hogwarts, the Ministry will only believe what that woman tells them this year. The parents might be able to do something but their sons and daughters rarely inform them that they received a detention, let alone what actually happens during said detentions."

The pair stepped inside Professor Snape's office and the door closed loudly behind them.

"And one parent that I could turn to, one that could actually see the results of the detention can't do anything about it," Harry muttered bitterly. "Just another secret."

Black eyes gave the teenager a sharp look. He had been expecting this for a few years now.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said, gesturing to a chair in his office. "It's time to have a discussion that's probably long overdue."

With trepidation, Harry sat down in the chair, watching as his father gathered a few healing poultices. When Professor Snape sat down in front of him, Harry laid his hand on the desk so that the wounds were clearly showing.

"There were only two spots on your birth certificate," the older wizard said after a minute. "One for a mother and one for a father. James Potter was put as your father because he was technically married to Lily Evans. It would have been scandalous for any other name to be put down."

"So he knew?" Harry asked.

"It was his idea," Severus replied. "It sounded so easy in theory. Marry and have a child before any suspicions could form."

"Suspicions?" Harry asked, eyes flicking back and forth as he tried to connect the dots in his mind. Something wasn't quite adding up.

"I'm sure by now that you realize that there are certain relationships that aren't accepted by the general wizarding population. You're friends with Ms. Parkinson and I know she's had to deal with such relationships in her own family."

The connecting line was beginning to form.

"James Potter and I were involved. Due to the nature of the relationship, it was a highly guarded secret. We were successful in fooling everyone but two people. To everyone, even to two of his best friends, James Potter bullied Severus Snape. I was friends with Lily and he supposedly desired her."

"She knew?" Harry asked. "That it was a façade?"

Severus nodded. "Her and your godfather, Black. We weren't going to tell anyone originally but one of us needed to marry a woman to avoid people from noticing everything and Black managed to figure it out on his own. I'm not quite sure how he figured it out when even Lupin never found anything odd. We thought that keeping our relationship secret was difficult in Hogwarts, being surrounded by other students at all times but it became even more difficult once we graduated. Without classes, the only reason we had to see each other was because of your mother. She agreed to marry James after Hogwarts because he had family connections that could help her with her career that she could have never made on her own and because she understood the pressures that he was facing. He was the sole heir for the Potters and it was practically demanded that he marry and start a family to continue on the line."

"Didn't people find it surprising that after years of hating James Potter, Lily married him?" Harry asked.

"I'm sure a few did but for most, they believed that it was a case of opposite attract. Lily disliked him with such a passion that it wasn't hard to convince others that her passions changed. When people mature, feelings tend to change. Besides, it was really the only choice to give us a reason to remain around each other. Other than Lily Evans, we didn't have any common acquaintances. We didn't exactly run in the same circles, you see.

"However, it soon became clear that marriage wouldn't be enough. Children were also expected and James wanted a child but he was stubborn about it. He didn't want just any child. He wanted a child that shared both mine and his blood."

"Let me guess, you found a way?" Harry asked.

"There was a connection that informed us there was a potion that allowed a child to be conceived from three parents instead of the normal two. It wasn't commonly used and therefore, it fell out of practice and was left out of texts. As part of my final preparations to become a Potions Master, I studied it and made it. All of the theoretical research was presented to the Ministry of Magic Department of Brewing and Potions but the practical research…let's just say that nine months later, Lily Potter gave birth to a bouncy baby boy.

"Everyone saw James' features and Lily's eyes. They didn't recognize that you had my hair color or that your skin was a few shades too pale. As I said that there were only two spots on the birth certificate, so there was never any suspicion. Everyone who knew the true circumstances behind your parentage was sworn to secrecy.

"Despite being in the midst of a war, no one ever predicted James and Lily dying so suddenly, especially once they went into hiding. It was too dangerous for me to be their secret keeper since I was around Voldemort daily, so I believed fully that they chose Black instead. I never knew where they were hidden. The last time I saw James and Lily was the day before they went into hiding, when I had to tell them that I inadvertently put them into danger. I thought they would be safe, so it was devastating to hear what happened that Halloween night.

"Since they hadn't predicted dying, wills were never made. That was common back then. Despite the war, most of our generation didn't think they would die and therefore never made arrangements. Because there were no wills, you were given to the Dursleys and the birth certificate prevented me from saying otherwise. I doubt they would have given you to me even if my name _had_ been on the document. There would have been riots if the magical community learned that the Boy-Who-Lived was in a former Death Eater's custody."

The two wizards were silent for a few minutes. As Harry processed everything, he idly realized that his wounds had been treated and his hand was now wrapped. He had been too focused on his father's words to pay attention to what the man had been doing.

"It's all so backwards," Harry decided. "We have magic which can make impossible things possible. People should be more accepting of things that even muggles can see as normal. Why should you be subjected to a life of lies because it's not accepted? Why should I? My life is filled with secrets and it's—it's unfair!"

"Life isn't fair," his father drawled. "Everyone needs to accept that fact at some point in their life. I accepted it a long time ago."

Harry glared at the man.

"It certainly isn't fair," he agreed. "Not to you, not to James, not to me, and certainly not to my mother. You and my father got a hidden relationship and me out of the deal but what did she get? A marriage where she was the third wheel and some measly connections?"

"Keep in mind that she was never forced into anything," Severus said quietly. "Everything—the relationship, the marriage, carrying you—she offered it willingly. And she got a lot more out of it than just some connections. Believe me when I say that she had a decidedly Slytherin mindset about the whole arrangement."

"Did you ever love my mother?" Harry demanded of his father angrily. Severus Snape looked away.

"She was a good friend but no, I never loved her," he admitted. "Not in the way you mean. It was always your father. "

Silence fell once again and when it became unbearable, Severus turned away from Harry.

"Go back to your dormitory," he told his son. "Your hand has healed and it's getting late."

Harry jerked upon hearing the dismissal. That was it? After all that he had just heard, he was expected to just go back to the Slytherin dorms and pretend that nothing happened?

"Fine," he snapped. "But this isn't the end. I'm going to have questions and you're the only one who can answer them."

Severus nodded curtly. Green eyes met black and the two wizards stared at each other for a few seconds before Harry turned and stormed out of the office.

As the door slammed shut, Severus sank further into his chair and rubbed his forehead with a small sigh. That conversation had gone just as well as he had expected. Maybe if he hadn't waited so long…

But he had waited in hopes that an older Harry would be better able to understand everything that had happened and all the emotions that had gone into his relationship. It wasn't something easily explained and even to this day, Severus still didn't understand parts of it.

After all, every day people did things that they couldn't explain. Even in war. Even for love.


	46. Year 5: Part 6

Over the next few days, it was clear to the other Slytherins in the house that something had happened the night of Harry's detention with Umbridge. The prefect was uncharacteristically quiet, only speaking when someone asked him a question directly. The time he normally spent with his friends were spent penning draft after draft of what seemed to be a letter. Of course, no one could be sure because every discarded draft was promptly thrown in the fire and burned to ashes.

By the third day, all of the fifth year Slytherins were concerned for Harry's wellbeing, even if they weren't in his direct group of friends.

"What did that woman do to him?" Tracey hissed when she spotted her foster brother in a chair stationed on the other side of the room. "He hasn't been right since he came back from that detention."

"I doubt he'll tell us if we just ask him," Blaise said in a low voice. "I tried asking what he was writing yesterday and he wouldn't give me a straight answer. The most I could get out of him was that it was a letter to someone. Nothing about who it was to or what it was about."

"Should we talk to Professor Snape?" Daphne asked, jotting down a quick sentence for her Charms essay. "If we can't get through to Harry, maybe he can?"

She was met with a few blank looks from the others besides Tracey, Pansy, Draco, and Blaise. "What? You've never noticed? Harry is close to Professor Snape than any other adult, besides Tracey's parents. He's not even that close with his godfather."

"They don't seem that close," Millicent Bulstrode said slowly. "I've never seen what you're saying."

"That's because you're practically blind, Millie," Draco drawled. "You can barely see the paper in front of your face."

The larger girl glared at Draco and clenched her hands into fist as she prepared to stand.

"Ignore him, Millie," Blaise said. "Draco's in a foul mood right now because he's stuck in here and not flying like he wants to."

"I'm not stuck anywhere," Draco snapped. "I don't have to be here but you were insisting that I stay with you until you finished your own homework to come flying with me."

"I never said anything," Blaise protested. "You might want to have your mind checked."

"Boys!" Pansy and Tracey snapped, glaring at the two. Draco got to his feet with a small huff and started to storm off. He took a brief detour, making his way over to Harry, who had looked over to group upon hearing the raised voices. Draco gripped the dark-haired boy's arm and dragged Harry to his feet, giving the other boy barely any time to throw his drafted letter into the fire before he was led forcibly out of the common room.

"What do you think you're doing, you prick?" Harry demanded, trying to wrench his arm out of Draco's grasp.

"We're going to figure out what's wrong with you," Draco snapped. "So you can return to acting normally and let things go back to the way they were. Can't have you upsetting everything, Potter."

"There's nothing wrong with me," Harry protested. Draco scoffed at that. "I didn't realize that thinking was a crime."

"It should be when one thinks as hard as you have been over the past three days," Draco said. "Now come on."

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, resigning himself to doing whatever it was that Draco wanted. The blonde wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Flying."

Harry stopped in his tracks.

"Are you mad?" he demanded. "Aren't you the one who told me to never go near a broom again?"

"I said no such thing," Draco replied. "If you'd remembered things correctly, I only told you to never come to another Quidditch game because you're a bad luck charm at those, just like everyone else in Slytherin did. Tracey told me that you learned to fly properly over the summer, so we're going to see if what she said was true."

With those words, Draco grabbed Harry's arm again and didn't let go until they were out on the Quidditch pitch with brooms in their hands.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Draco asked when Harry just stood there. "Get on your broom."

"Aren't you going to do so as well?" Harry asked, looking at Draco skeptically. The blonde hadn't mounted his broom yet.

"Once you're in the air," Draco replied. "I'm just going to make sure you're in the air first before I join you so you can't run away."

Harry scowled. "You're being ridiculous," he snapped. Draco merely gestured for Harry to get on his broom.

Once they were in the air and hovering well above the ground, Draco turned his broom to face Harry's.

"This isn't about Umbridge," Draco stated. Harry shrugged.

"Not really," he admitted. "The detention was awful but she's an awful woman. It was to be expected."

"Then what is this about?" Draco demanded. Harry sighed and looked up at the sky as he tried to figure out how to word things without giving too much away.

"Have you ever had a secret that seemed small at first but then overnight it turned into this secret that encompassed your entire life?" he asked. Draco gave him a flat look and Harry jerked back when he realized. "Right, of course you have," he murmured. "How do you manage it? I mean, it's not something that you can just forget."

"If only it was that easy," Draco admitted. "You can't manage it and you can't forget about it. You just go one day at a time and hope that it works out."

"And if it doesn't?" Harry asked.

"Then you have a larger problem to worry about," Draco said. "I've heard that it helps to tell someone but from my experience, that's just one more thing to worry about. You can control what you do and say but you can't really control another person's words and actions. Sure, you can manipulate and coerce them but if they really wanted to do something, you can't stop it."

"That's reassuring," Harry said in a dry tone. Not that he would have told someone. Not when it involved other people besides him. "Doesn't it get tiring? Having to hide part of yourself all of the time because others wouldn't understand."

"Of course it does," Draco replied. "But right now, I'd rather stay quiet and let others make assumptions that end up making my life just a little bit easier instead of speaking up and bringing trouble down upon my head."

"And how long do you expect to keep that up?" Harry asked. Draco stared at him for a few seconds.

"I haven't thought that far ahead," he finally said. "Since this summer, I've decided that it will be a miracle to make it out of Hogwarts alive. Maybe if I make it to that day, I'll start thinking ahead."

"Careful, Malfoy. You're starting to sound a lot like me," Harry said in a joking manner. Draco stared at him again before smirking.

"That's true. I suppose if there's someone in this school with less of a chance of graduating alive than me, it's you," he said. "So what's this secret of yours? You already know mine so it's only fair."

Harry shook his head. "Never going to happen, Malfoy. In your words, that would be just one more thing for me to worry about if you knew."

Draco shrugged. "I had to try," he said with a smirk. "Now are we going to do anything else besides just sitting here and hovering? Otherwise this is going to get boring fast."

"What are you suggesting?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. He regretted his question when Draco's smirk widened.

"Let's race."

When they got back to the common room, Harry had finally decided what he needed to ask Sirius. Now that he had a clearer idea of what he wanted to say in his mind, it took less than a quarter of an hour to put it down on paper.

Once he was done writing his letter, there was just enough time for Harry to go the owlery and send it off. The sooner he could get a reply, the sooner he could try and clear his head.

It was strange. He and Malfoy had never been friendly until last year—even now, their friendship was tentative at best and filled with clipped tones—but at the moment, he could probably relate to the blonde the best. Their situations weren't exactly the same but they were close enough for Harry to be willing to take Draco's advice. It was at least helpful, and Harry knew that it wouldn't be out of pity or sympathy.

As Harry finished sending off his letter, the door to the owlery opened. Harry nodded to Hermione as she hurried in.

"How are you, Harry?" she asked, stopping in the doorway. "How was your detention?"

"Foul," Harry said. He glanced at Hermione's hand and noticed the bandage on it. "I'm guessing yours was the same?"

Hermione's face darkened. "That awful woman," she spat. "What she's doing can't be legal. She may have come from the Ministry but she's still a teacher."

Harry merely pursed his lips together. He wasn't expecting that anything would be done about the situation. Professor Snape had practically admitted that Hogwarts couldn't do anything, despite having proof of Umbridge's actions, and that the Ministry was going to deny and ignore everything for as long as they possibly could.

When it was clear that Harry wasn't going to say anything else, Hermione moved away from the owlery door and began looking for a school owl. Harry took the opportunity to leave and head back down to his common room, gathering lingering Slytherin students as he went. One of the students he found was the first year muggleborn student, Sarah Entwhistle.

"How are classes going?" Harry asked the younger girl as they walked back. Sarah's eyes were wide as she spoke.

"It's amazing," she said. "I've had a few years to get used to the idea of being magical thanks to my brother but it's so different reading the letters and actually seeing the magic in practice. I loved going to Diagon Alley every summer with Kevin but he never said how amazing Hogwarts was. He sucks at writing letters."

Harry laughed at that.

"And are you making friends?" he asked. "Settling in okay in your dorm?"

Sarah nodded. "It's not bad," she said. "The girls in my room are all friendly and they've loaned me a few things that I forgot at home. I don't understand why Kevin was so worried about me being in Slytherin."

Harry had to quickly run through the last names of the Slytherins in Sarah's year. There were no prominent pureblood names that he could remember, which probably made things easier for the muggleborn girl. The first year hadn't been so bad, he remembered, but in the later years, when the students started overhearing the opinions of other students was when problems started to occur.

"Well, let me or Pansy know if you have any issues, even if it's only with homework," Harry told the girl.

Sarah hesitated but she spoke up when Harry gestured for her to do so. "There is one issue," she admitted in a quiet voice.

"What is it?" Harry asked, starting to slow his steps.

"Professor Umbridge," Sarah whispered. "She's horrible and I don't understand why she's a teacher."

Harry sighed. "Neither does the rest of the school," he told the younger girl. "This is her first year teaching and I don't think she'll be here for more than a year. The professors in that class never do."

"She doesn't like me," Sarah said. "She never answers my questions and she speaks in this really nasty tone whenever she talks to me. The first day we did roll call, she said 'Entwhistle, Sarah…ah, the mudblood Slytherin.'"

Harry stopped in his tracks and stared down at the younger girl. His blood boiled at her statement.

That. Awful. Foul. Woman.

"Did you tell a professor? Particularly Professor Snape or Professor McGonagall?" he asked. Sarah shook her head and Harry decided to change directions.

"Come on," he said. "We're going to find Professor Snape then. He might not be able to do anything right now but once he can, it's best to have all of her actions reported or documented."

Harry dropped Sarah off at Professor Snape's office and made sure the man had come to the door before returning to his common room. He didn't want to talk to his father yet.

Not until he had heard from Sirius and had cleared his head some more.

The days dragged slowly as Harry waited for his godfather's response. He knew it would take a few days but after a week had passed, he was starting to wonder if something was wrong. If two weeks passed and nothing arrived for him, he decided that he would bring the situation up with a professor.

Thankfully, it never came to that, as on the tenth day a letter arrived.

Harry stared at the letter and at the seal, feeling that something was off with it. He didn't know if it had been opened or read but as he held Sirius's response, he was suddenly terrified that something of the sort had happened. He hoped that Sirius hadn't put anything in the letter that would make Harry's situation known to anyone else reading it.

_Harry,_

_I know that you are confused by everything. I would explain but Professor Snape was the best person to do it and it had been decided long ago that he would explain everything when the time was right. Everyone else (except maybe Lily) would have made a mess out of the entire thing._

_To you, it might seem like this changes everything, but when you get older, you'll realize that this is only a small part of who you are._

_I feel like I'm the worst person to talk to about this matter. James and I were best friends but we never talked much about this. I was content to be his friend and your godfather and looking back, we were both unwilling to bring it into conversation for many reasons. However, never doubt that you were loved. You were born out of, even if your birth wasn't the most traditional of births. Your mother always knew what she was doing and I know that she never regretted any of her actions. She loved you, just like the rest of your family did._

_I wish there was more to say but I feel like I've already botched this enough. Just know that while it seems confusing and overwhelming right now, it will become simpler as you grow older. You'll begin to understand, especially once you have a family of your own._

_Sirius._

Harry slipped the letter back into his pocket and closed his eyes. He had thought writing to Sirius might help but he felt just as confused as ever.

The Slytherin prefect opened up his eyes and resumed eating breakfast dully, not wanting to face the day. He ignored his classmates as they opened up their morning mail and waited for the paper to come. The Daily Prophet owls usually arrived a few minutes later than the rest of the mail owls.

Harry was checking to see if all of his materials for the day were in his bag when Pansy and Tracey started hitting his arms.

"What?" he snapped, jerking his head up to glare at the two girls. They shoved one of the papers in front of his face. His heart sank as he read the center headline.

_MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM_

_DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR_

This wasn't good.

It wasn't good at all.


	47. Year 5: Part 7

A sick feeling hung over Hogwarts after the Daily Prophet arrived. A majority of the student body, even down to the first years, had read the article and everyone was dreading to find out what changes were about to come.

Many of the students at Hogwarts had already known that the Ministry was trying to intervene and control their schooling. However, they were unprepared for the blatant route that the body of government was taking. The Ministry of Magic wasn't trying to hide their actions.

"How many students do you think will be pulled out in the next few weeks?" Daphne Greengrass asked, looking around the Great Hall at dinnertime.

"None," Theodore replied in a dull tone.

"Why?" Tracey asked, voice colored with surprise. "Surely not all the parents agree with the Ministry?"

"Of course they don't," Draco sneered. "They'll want to but the parents _can't_ do anything. To pull a student out of Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic requires proof that the student will be attending a different school of magic within a week of leaving Hogwarts. It also has to be a Ministry approved school, which is only about a quarter of those in the world. The two closest are Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, neither of which accept transfers after their school terms start. The only way students can be pulled out of Hogwarts without proof of their registration in a different school is if they're in mortal danger."

"It's absolutely ridiculous," Pansy said with a sniff. Harry silently agreed. They were being brainwashed and, in some cases, tortured, and they couldn't escape the situation because they were essentially being kept prisoner by their own government. It didn't matter if it was intentional or just basic bureaucracy in action but either way, it made Harry nervous.

* * *

After dinner, Severus made his way through the castle up to the headmaster's office. The frown on his face had been etched there since breakfast and the man was sure that it wouldn't leave for a very long time.

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore stated as the black clad man swept into the headmaster's office. "Is this about the article this morning?"

"Is there anything else this could possibly be about?" Severus demanded. "The woman has been here for less than a month and already she has power to do things that not even the deputy headmistress can do. Should I expect a proclamation about you stepping down and Umbridge being named as headmistress tomorrow?"

"Maybe not tomorrow, but I do believe that the Ministry wants to achieve that particular aim before the end of the year," Albus admitted. Severus stared at the older wizard with a mixture of anger and denial.

"Students have already come to me, telling that they have been tortured by her. If she did that while she was a teacher—in her first week even—what do you think she's going to do now that she has this title and the power that comes with it?" the Potions professor asked. "What do you think she would do if she became headmistress?"

"You already have an idea," Albus said. "Which is why we must delay it as long as possible. I can't control Dolores or Cornelius and I dare not even try. If they even suspect that I might try to intervene, that could give them enough reason to force me to leave the school. We can only watch and hope that they discover nothing that would give them reason to crack down on Hogwarts even harder. It's the only way to protect the students."

Severus stared at the older wizard for a moment, not quite comprehending what he was hearing. Just sit and do nothing? Had the man not heard his earlier comment? The woman had tortured students—had tortured his own son—and to protect them, he was supposed to do nothing?

The Potions professor pushed down the feelings of rage and indignity that started to rise in his chest. He wasn't a Gryffindor. He couldn't fight every battle and he had long accepted that fact. Sometimes it truly was better to do nothing and hope that things didn't get worse. The enemy one knew was better than one that wasn't known, especially when the unknown enemy had the potential to be much worse.

"It might be easier if Dolores felt that she could rely on another professor here in the school," Albus said. "So that way we would not feel like we were doing nothing for our students. If she feels that she has some support in the school, instead of the entire staff and students being against her very presence, she may be willing to listen to someone other than Cornelius eventually."

"If you are giving the inane suggestion that I be that semblance of support, put the idea of your head, Albus. I already have too much on my plate with teaching those moronic children that you call students and my fortnightly meetings. The Dark Lord is already very put upon that I cannot be at his beck and call and I will not put my position at risk."

"If you appeared to be supporting Dolores, I do believe that your house would be protected from her intentions," Albus wheedled. "Slytherin house has always had difficulty getting the protection they need and deserve, especially in these last few decades."

"It is not my students that need protection from that woman the most," Severus said. "I think that you will find that the ones that need the most protection are the students who loudly proclaim that they believe you when you say the Dark Lord has returned. If I recall correctly, nearly all of those students reside in Gryffindor house."

Any reply or attempt at convincing Severus to change his mind that Dumbledore may have had was interrupted by Minerva McGonagall storming into the headmaster's office.

"Albus, you have to do something," the witch demanded. "You have to stop that woman!"

As Albus turned his focus onto the deputy headmistress, Severus slipped away, silently seething. He had no doubts that if Minerva hadn't arrived when she did, that he may have been ordered to try and 'befriend' Umbridge.

Lucifer had a better chance of being released from hell before he would ever consider being friendly or supportive to that woman. Not after what she had done to his son.

* * *

After his rounds of the castle, Severus returned to his office to pick up some essays that still needed to be graded. He regretted that decision as he entered the corridor where his office was located.

Right before his door, Severus stopped, lifting an eyebrow and crossing his arms. The frown on his face turned into a sneer.

"Good evening, Severus," Dolores Umbridge said in her high-pitched tone.

"Do you need something?" Severus asked, not moving.

"I'm sure that you've seen the article that was in the paper this morning," Umbridge said. "I'm beginning my inspections tomorrow and, since I've discovered that I'm needing some potions, I was willing to discuss your inspection if you could provide me with the potions I need."

"No," Severus said, not even wanting to hear what kind of potions the woman wanted. Umbridge blinked, as if she had never imagined that her proposal would be rejected.

"Now Severus, at least hear me out. Wouldn't it be nice if we could work together? I would get the potions I need and you could easily get a passing review, which would give the Minister of Magic a boost of confidence in your abilities. He has had his doubts due to your past and a good review from me would erase those worries."

"I have been employed at this school for sixteen years. I'm sure that if there was any doubt in my teaching skills that I would not have remained here for that length of time," Severus stated. "Therefore, I am not concerned about these supposed inspections of yours."

"Then what else would you want from me so that I can get you to brew the potions I need?" Umbridge demanded, her voice losing its high pitch as she stopped treating the man like one of her students and instead as someone that was preventing her from getting her way.

"What potions could you possibly need that you can not get from the Hospital Wing? Madam Pomfrey keeps a number of potions on hand, even ones that are not commonly found in apothecaries."

"Veritaserum," Umbridge announced. Severus raised his other eyebrow and his sneer widened.

"You have no need for such a potion," he said. "And I do not make a habit of brewing such potions in a school, where it could be ruined by students that make habits of sticking their noses into everything."

"I will need the Veritaserum in a few weeks, once I finish the inspections of every professor that Albus Dumbledore has employed during his term as headmaster," Umbridge said. "As an addendum to the educational decree that allows me to inspect professors, I also have the ability to question and inspect students, to get their views of the professors. In order to prevent them from lying about professors to get them into trouble, I will be using the Veritaserum to ensure that I am getting only the truth and not mere stories or rumors."

The blood running through Severus's body turned cold upon hearing the woman's plans.

"I do not have the necessary time it would take to brew that particular potion," Severus said. "And I doubt it will be necessary to question the students as you plan to do so. I'm certain that the parents would never agree to such measures being taken on their sons and daughters and if I discover that the students under my protection have been questioned, I am duty bound to inform their parents. As I do so, I'll make sure to include a warning about the mortal danger they are in, which I believe would allow the parents to pull their children out of school until the danger has passed or the school is shut down."

"Now Severus, you're being ridiculous," Umbridge simpered. "Such drastic measures wouldn't be necessary."

"Since you are not head of a house, that is not your call to make," the Potions master replied. "Only the headmaster would have the power to convince me that the students aren't in danger."

Severus brushed past the woman and into his office. He made sure to lock the door behind him, refusing the Ministry woman entrance. The professor ignored the essays on his desk that needed grading and instead pulled out a bottle of scotch that he kept locked up in one of his cabinets. He kept it on hand because every teacher had those days when they needed to relax with a drink when grading but he had never opened a bottle so early into a school term.

The man only took a small swallow, just enough to create a nice burn as it went down his throat, before he closed the bottle and returned it to the cabinet. Then he made his way to his desk and sat down, pulling out a self-inking red quill and the essays that needed grading.

* * *

The next day, inspections began. Dolores Umbridge began with Professor Trelawney, who everyone could tell was the most vulnerable of all the professors. The combination of her nerves and her lack of experience when it came to being confronted about her craft made it impossible for her to receive a good review during her inspection.

Every day for the next few weeks, Umbridge made it a point to inspect a teacher a day. It didn't escape anyone's notice that she was focusing on one year in particular and was sitting in on every class possible of theirs.

"It's bad enough that we have to deal with her during Defense Against the Dark Arts," Tracey muttered under her breath as she spotted Umbridge entering the room to inspect their Herbology class. "Why does she have to choose to inspect the fifth year classes?"

"Because she's a horrid woman," Harry grunted and deliberately turned away from the toad-like woman. He didn't like even looking in her direction.

"Because the fifth years have caused her the most problems so far," Neville whispered as he passed their group. "She's given fifth years twice as many detentions as all of the years put together."

"So why does she hate fifth years?" Tracey hissed. "Because she failed all of her O.W.L.s? It wouldn't surprise me, especially with her obviously limited intellect."

Harry snorted but he forced his face to remain straight when he felt Umbridge's eyes land on his back.

* * *

Midway through the inspections, Hermione approached Harry in the library one day after class. It was one of the rare times when he was studying by himself and not doing homework in a group with his housemates.

"I've had this idea," the Gryffindor announced as she sat down across from Harry. The teenager merely hummed in acknowledgement of her statement. "It's about Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"We can't poison a professor," Harry said automatically. Hermione's eyes widened at his words.

"Do you really think I would ever suggest something like that?" she demanded. Harry glanced up and blinked in faint surprise.

"Of course not," he said. "However, that's normally where conversations like this have gone in the past few days."

"Have you been talking to Ron?" Hermione demanded. "He's suggested poisoning already."

"That's what Neville said," Harry confirmed. "But no. The idea has been tossed around the Slytherin common room a few times. What's this idea of yours?"

"Well, since we're clearly not learning anything in Umbridge's class, I figured that we could teach ourselves," Hermione said. "Form a group to practice actual Defense Against the Dark Arts. I've already made a list of what's normally covered during O.W.L.s and the general curriculum for the class that other schools use. We would just need a teacher."

"Good luck finding a professor that will agree to something like this," Harry murmured, turning his focus back on his textbooks.

"I was thinking about one or two students to lead this group," Hermione admitted. "Particularly one that has consistently had top grades in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry sighed, now understanding where this was leading.

"That's not a good idea," he said.

"Why not?" Hermione asked. "I think that you would be a wonderful teacher."

"It's too risky, Hermione," Harry said. "What do you think would happen if Umbridge got wind of this? Besides, I'm a Slytherin. Most of the students wouldn't like the fact that a Slytherin was in charge. How long do you think that it would take before someone claims that I'm teaching dark magic, just because they can't learn a spell easily or because one of my housemates wrongs them?"

"That wouldn't happen," Hermione protested. Harry didn't believe her.

"Besides, I'm too busy," he said. "I don't understand how you had time to prepare all of that already. I'm barely able to complete my homework on time and manage my Prefect responsibilities and start revising for O.W.L.s at the end of the year."

"You won't even think about it?" Hermione asked, face falling. Harry shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I just have too much going on. There's too many other things to worry about and I don't want to risk getting on Umbridge's bad side any further than I already am. The less she pays attention to me right now, the better it is."

"But you could teach others how to defend themselves. You of all people should know how important that is. Don't you want others to know how to defend themselves against Death Eaters or even You-Know-Who himself?"

Harry stiffened and when he looked up again, Hermione was shocked to see that the dark-haired teenager was glaring at her.

"I do and I believe that it would be beneficial for others to know how to defend themselves but as I said before, I have too many other things to worry about, including You-Know-Who. It's a good idea Hermione but I'm not going to lead the club or be its teacher and I won't let you guilt me into doing so. You would be a decent teacher. It's your idea so why don't you teach the ones that are interested?"

With that, Harry gathered up his materials and pushed them into his bag. He was sick of studying in the library. It got noisier and noisier as the weeks went on and the older students started to panic about their midterm exams.

The Slytherin common room was just as busy as the library and much louder. The only way Harry would get any quiet is if he studied in his room.

On the way to the dorms, Harry stopped Blaise, pulling him off to the side.

"I think the Gryffindors are starting a group to learn and practice the spells we're supposed to be learning for Defense," he said. "They might reach out to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw but they'd never reach out to Slytherin. You should consider starting a similar group for our house."

"Why me?" Blaise asked. "Why don't you do it yourself?"

"I don't have time and you have the best marks in that class after me in this house," Harry explained. "You don't have to do anything but the others are going to need to actually practice these spells before O.W.L.s. What do you think Professor Snape would do if all of Gryffindor passed the practicals and Slytherin didn't?"

Blaise made a face at the thought.

"It's a decent idea," he admitted. "I'll get one of the girls in on it and we'll come up with something."

Harry nodded and continued to his room.


	48. Year 5: Part 8

Within a few days of bringing it up, Blaise had managed to rope in Astoria Greengrass and Tracey into helping him run a Defense Against the Dark Arts practical tutorial and the first lesson was taking place by the end of the week.

It had been determined that the safest place to practice magic was in the common room. It would be too risky to practice in a disused classroom, as a professor could walk in at any moment, and it was the easiest place for Slytherins to congregate without notice from any other students. The only real risk was that someone would tell Umbridge what the Slytherins were up to but even Harry underestimated how hated she was by the entire school.

Harry watched the lesson as he finished off his Transfiguration and Potions essays, practicing a few of the fifth year spells when his hand needed a break from writing. It was a welcome distraction and though the club was only meant for fifth years and younger, he saw a few of the sixth and seventh years participating as well.

"The key to successfully performing any spell is aim," Blaise told the younger students, sticking a few pillows to the walls with sticking charms. "You may have the perfect wand movements and pronunciation but that means nothing if you can't hit what you're aiming at. Good aim also means that you waste less energy if you ever find yourself in a situation where you need to shoot off spells quickly. Instead of throwing off six of the same spell, hoping that one will hit your target, you can just cast one and then move on to the next spell in your arsenal."

As he finished speaking, Blaise cast three separate spells in quick succession. Each spell hit the center of the pillow that was hanging in the middle.

Harry raised an eyebrow as he stared at the scorch marks on the pillow. He had known that Blaise had decent aim but the wizard had just revealed a true talent for that area of spellwork. Judging from the glint in his dark eyes, Harry was sure that Blaise had purposefully revealed that bit of information.

"Very well done, Mr. Zabini," a familiar voice rang throughout the room. The Slytherin students stiffened as they turned to stare at their head of house, who normally never came into the Slytherin common room after his lecture on the first night back.

"Professor Snape," Blaise greeted the man, only his adam's apple bouncing up and down betraying the nervousness he felt.

Harry watched his father carefully, hoping that the older wizard wouldn't put a stop to this the first night they had done this.

"A notice from the High Inquisitor," Professor Snape said, bringing forth a piece of parchment. "To be posted in all of the common rooms and gathering areas for students. One of her newest orders, I believe. It reads that all student organizations, societies, teams, groups, or clubs—which is defined as a regular meeting of more than three students—has been disbanded and to reform these organizations, you must gain permission from the High Inquisitor herself. That includes Quidditch, so I highly suggest that our Quidditch team approach her before classes tomorrow. Any students that do not heed this order will be promptly expelled."

Harry's heart sunk and looking around, he could see distress on many of the students' faces. They wanted to pass the practical portions of their exams but there were probably very few students that wanted to risk expulsion to do so. They had tried and now their efforts were ruined by the newest addition to Hogwarts' staff.

"Thank you, Professor Snape," Tracey said calmly, not even blinking as she processed the new information. She looked around the room. "There will be no trouble from us."

"I should expect not. Slytherin house is not known for its blatant disregard of the rules, unlike other houses. It is always best to work within the limits and loopholes given," the Potions professor said simply before turning on his heel and striding out of the room, only pausing briefly enough to pin the notice on the board. Tracey waited for the common room door to slide shut before she glanced at Astoria and Blaise. When she raised an eyebrow, both of them nodded.

"Right, everyone break into groups of three and work together. Once groups have been decided, we'll work out a schedule so no group of three has a regular meeting with another group."

Harry ducked his head to hide his smile when he heard the determination in his foster sister's voice. Work within the limits and loopholes indeed.

* * *

The following morning, there were many students that looked distraught about the newest order from Umbridge. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see a few students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff consulting with Gryffindors. So, he had been right. Hermione had reached out to the other houses but not to Slytherin and that was possibly where the leak about the defense club had occurred.

Harry rubbed his forehead absent-mindedly as he continued to eat his breakfast, not paying attention to the conversation around him. Suddenly, there was a jab to his side and the dark-haired wizard yelped as he glared at Tracey, who had elbowed his ribs.

"Pay attention," she muttered. "I tried calling your name but you weren't listening."

"I'm out of it this morning," Harry muttered back.

"I've noticed," Tracey said. "Does it have anything to do with your scar?"

Harry pulled his hand away from his forehead. "No," he said immediately.

"Are you sure?" Tracey demanded in a low voice. "I've noticed you've been rubbing it a lot lately. Ever since the beginning of summer…" she trailed off and gave Harry a meaningful look.

The wizard pushed away his tray, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. Since Voldemort came back, she meant.

"I'm fine," Harry said. "I'd have noticed if my scar was bothering me. O.W.L.s and Umbridge have just been giving me a lot of headaches lately."

"If you say so," Tracey murmured. By the tone of her voice, it was evident that she was giving up for now but Harry wasn't naïve enough to think that she was dropping the subject for good.

Over the next few weeks, Harry and his housemates found themselves falling into a routine. Classes and homework took up much of their day while the time after dinner was spent studying, finishing up homework, and the not-actual defense practicals taught by Blaise on nights when there was no Quidditch practice. However, as the first match drew nearer, that meant there were fewer chances to practice the spells they would need to know come O.W.L.s time.

"Practice every day this week?" Harry asked when he spotted the Quidditch schedule on the bulletin board. "Isn't that a bit excessive?"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth when Harry had three pairs of hands trying to cover his mouth.

"Don't say anything about it," Pansy hissed in Harry's ear. "And especially don't let Draco hear you say anything about it. It's his first match as Quidditch captain!"

"Is someone nervous?" Harry asked dryly, scanning the room for Draco. Both Pansy and Daphne elbowed him while Blaise smothered a laugh.

"He's been a right nightmare," the other wizard admitted.

"He was talking the other night about locking you in the dormitory while the match was going on," Daphne warned Harry.

"What?" the green-eyed wizard said in slight outrage. "I'm not that much of a jinx!"

"Yes you are," his three friends replied in unison. Harry rolled his eyes before walking away from the bulletin board.

"I wasn't planning on going anyways," Harry said when he say Pansy and Daphne sit down in the chairs next to him.

"Good. I'll enjoy a match that doesn't involve bludgers flying into the stands," Pansy said. "But we have more important things to talk about."

"Like?" Harry asked, raising his head so he could stare properly at the two girls.

"Are we still together or do we need to break up?" Daphne asked. Harry blinked and his brows furrowed in confusion.

"What?" he asked, shaking his head slightly.

"Remember last year?" Daphne asked. Harry grimaced but nodded. "Well so do others and they're asking questions. We need to decide how to answer those questions."

"Why?" Harry questioned. "It's not like anyone is ever going to ask us directly. They never did last year."

Both Pansy and Daphne sighed.

"No offense Potter, but you can be kind of dim at times," Pansy said. Harry blinked in surprise and his mouth dropped open as he tried to figure out a retort.

"They didn't ask because it was made clear by us girls," Daphne explained. "And now we need to do some follow-up. So what will it be?"

"What will what be?"

There was another sigh shared between the girls.

"Are we together or are we breaking up?" Daphne asked slowly.

"I don't care," Harry said. "You can decide. Just let me know so I'm not caught off-guard."

"You're hopeless Potter," Daphne sighed as she stood up. Pansy followed her friend, shaking her head in mock despair. Harry rolled his eyes as the two girls left, not understanding why they thought defining his relationship status was important. There were other things to worry about that had more priority.

* * *

It had been over a year since the last Quidditch match and Harry had forgotten just how empty the common room seemed when everyone was either at breakfast or heading down to the Quidditch pitch.

Harry was doing neither of those things. He had woken up early and grabbed breakfast from the kitchens, as well as some snacks for later in the morning. Then, he had started the obscene amount of homework that all of his teachers, except for Professor McGonagall, had assigned while ignoring the ongoings around him as students filtered down toward the Great Hall for breakfast.

With the common room so abnormally empty, Harry finished his homework quicker than he would have had he been working in the library or with his friends. Occasionally a shiver would run up his spine as the eerie silence surrounded him but Harry was able to push on and ignore it until he was reviewing his final essay.

When Harry finally rolled up the piece of parchment and looked around, he noted with slight surprise that the common room was still empty. Glancing at the time, he raised an eyebrow in confusion. The Quidditch match was lasting much later than it normally did.

Resigning himself to joining the crowd, Harry returned his homework to his trunk and grabbed a cloak, casting a series of warming charms on it before he left the Slytherin dorms. The castle was empty, as even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had chosen to go to the first match of the season as it had been so long.

Stepping outside the castle, Harry quickly looked around to double-check that the game hadn't finished and no one was returning to Hogwarts. From the roars and cheers, it seemed pretty obvious that the game was still going, despite the fact that it was nearly dark.

Then there was a sight that made Harry grin and change his mind about going to the Quidditch match. Smoke was rising from the chimney of Hagrid's hut and for the first time in months, there were lights in the window.

Hagrid was back.

The fifteen-year-old wizard trotted down the Hogwarts grounds and eagerly rapped on the door. He and Hagrid might not have been as close as they were during Harry's first years at Hogwarts but the man's presence had still been missed. Harry's grin widened when he heard Fang barking, but he briefly wondered who had been taking care of the dog while Hagrid had been gone. He highly doubted that Fang would have been brought along on his owner's travels.

"Harry?" Hagrid looked pleasantly surprised when he opened the door and spotted the wizard. "What're yeh doin' here?"

"I saw that you were back," Harry explained as he stepped inside the hut. Almost immediately he had to push Fang off as the dog was insistent on covering his face with sloppy kisses.

"Yeh weren't at ter Quidditch match?" Hagrid asked, removing a steak from his eyes. Harry grimaced as he realized that the half-giant's face was covered in cuts and bruises.

"Quidditch doesn't interest me," Harry reminded Hagrid. "What happened to your eye?"

"Nuthin' much," Hagrid said quickly. "Don' worry 'bout it. Want a cuppa? I jus' got back bu' I was makin' one fer meself."

"Sure," Harry agreed.

"Where have you been?" Harry asked once his hands were being warmed by a large mug of tea.

"It's better if yeh didn' know," Hagrid replied. "I was jus' doin' a favor fer Dumbledore."

"Must have been some favor," Harry said dryly as he took in Hagrid's injuries. Now that he was settled he was aware of other injuries that the half-giant had attained on his travels.

Hagrid gave an awkward cough and changed the subject. "Wha's bin happenin' here?" he asked. "Anything new?"

Harry glowered into his mug of tea. "Oh yeah, loads," he said. "What do you want to know first?"

"How'd yer summer go?" Hagrid asked.

"Fine," Harry said with a shrug. "Spent most of it out of the country after we were attacked by dementors."

"Yeh were attacked by dementors!"

Harry nearly tipped over in his chair at Hagrid's sudden roar.

"It was fine!" he said quickly. "I was with adults who took care of the situation. No one was hurt, just a little bit shaken."

Hagrid seemed to calm down at the news.

"That was the only major thing that happened during the summer," Harry said. "The year's been pretty boring so far, especially after last year. I was made Prefect, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is horrid and—" Harry cut himself off abruptly when he realized what he was about to say.

"And what?" Hagrid questioned, sensing that Harry was keeping something back.

"Nothing too important," Harry muttered, kicking the leg of the table. "Just found out a few things about my parents that I'm trying to wrap my head around."

"Yeh found out 'bout Professor Snape?"

Harry gaped at Hagrid. "You knew?"

"Course I did. He wanted someone ter keep an eye on yeh if he ever needed ter leave the school an' he said he figured tha' no one would e'er suspect tha' he would tell me somethin' important."

Harry continued to gape. Even he would have never expected that someone would trust Hagrid with a secret of that magnitude and he tended to trust Hagrid more than others.

"When did he tell you?" the teenager finally asked. "How long have you known?"

"'Bout a year before yeh came ter Hogwarts. He was tryin' ter figure out how it would all work out," Hagrid replied. "What house yeh might be in and how close or how far away he should get ter yeh. I think he jus' needed someone ter talk to 'bout it. E'eryone else who knew was either dead or in Azkaban."

"So why'd he wait so long to tell me?" Harry asked bitterly.

"Because yeh had so many other things goin' on," Hagrid explained. "Why give yeh more ter worry 'bout?"

Harry would have replied with a comment so acerbic that it would have made Professor Snape proud but a sharp rapping on the door cut him off. The wizard checked the time as Hagrid limped over and breathed a sigh of relief when it was not yet dinnertime. It was still student free time.

"So, you're Hagrid, are you?"

Harry cringed as Umbridge's voice rang out and he grit his teeth as the woman stepped inside Hagrid's hut. Bulging eyes landed on Harry, who plastered a fake smile on his face.

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the Quidditch match?"

"No," Harry said simply before moving to fill up his mug of tea. As he turned his back on Umbridge, he could feel the woman silently seething at his lack of a response.

"Who're you?" Harry turned his head slightly to see how the professor would react to Hagrid's question. He already had the sense that she despised Hagrid

"Professor Dolores Umbridge, High Inquisitor and Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Umbridge introduced herself. Hagrid glanced at Harry who nodded. The man grimaced, remembering Harry's words about the woman being horrid. "I came down to introduce myself to you, since I'll be inspecting your classes later this week and it's a good thing that I did so I can return Mr. Potter here to the castle."

"Why?" Harry asked. "It's not dinner yet and I'm free to spend my time until then however I please."

"Surely Mr. Potter that if you do not want to be at the Quidditch match, you should be in the castle working on homework."

"All of my homework for the week is complete," Harry said. "So, like I said, I can spend the time until dinner as I please as long as I'm not breaking any school rules and the last time I checked, I wasn't."

"Tone, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge snapped. "I am your teacher and I deserve your respect."

"My apologies," Harry said, letting a faint tone of sarcasm enter his voice meeting Umbridge's glare had on.

"I have half a mind to give you a detention, Mr. Potter," Umbridge threatened.

"Okay," Harry said. "Though I wonder how the other professors would react if they found out you gave me a detention when I was doing nothing wrong?"

"You claim that your blatant disrespect is doing nothing wrong?"

"I've been nothing but a model student," Harry replied. "All of my other professors would agree and would never imagine that I would be anything but respectful, especially toward adults."

"I'm sure Hagrid here will back up my claims," Umbridge snapped. The half-giant glanced at her when he heard his name.

"Sorry, what? I was busy tryin' ter keep Fang from eatin' the steak," he said, waving the steak he had slapped over his eye. Dolores Umbridge glared at him before she turned around and stormed out of the hut. Harry and Hagrid watched her go, slightly amused but also slightly nervous.

"Thanks Hagrid," Harry muttered.

"Horrid woman," Hagrid replied. "Inspectin' teachers, is she?"

"That's just the start," Harry said with a sigh. " _She's_ just the start. The Ministry is trying to interfere with Hogwarts and they're not being secret about it. She leaves the Slytherins alone for the most part; I think Professor Snape has something to do with that. She's trying to control the entire school and everyone in it, though. You'll see some of the rules she's come up with."

"Horrid woman," Hagrid repeated.


	49. Year 5: Part 9

Harry didn't remain long at Hagrid's after Umbridge left. He had a niggling feeling that she would be waiting for him, watching as he walked back for the slightest infraction. She hadn't given him a detention since he had stormed out of the room but Harry knew that wouldn't last forever. Soon enough she would get frustrated by his attitude towards her and snap. It was just a matter of time.

The Slytherin common room was a large burst of silver and green and a couple of fireworks exploding near the ceiling. Harry froze at the sudden burst of noise and color that overwhelmed his senses and it took a couple of seconds for him to process what was happening.

"SLYTHERIN WON!" Pansy shrieked upon seeing Harry enter the common room. She grabbed his arm and dragged him further into the room, forcing him to be fully surrounded by the exuberant celebrations.

"Yeah, I gathered that," Harry responded dryly as he tugged his arm out of Pansy's grip. "This seems like a bigger celebration than I remember other matches being."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Blame Malfoy. After winning his first match as Quidditch Captain—something that hasn't been managed in quite a few years, mind you—he insisted on a large celebration. Want a butterbeer?"

Harry snorted. "Typical," he said but nodded as a reply to Pansy's question. She grabbed his arm again and pulled him over to a study table that was being used to serve refreshments. She quickly passed him a butterbeer from the quickly dwindling supply.

"Anyways, where were you? When we didn't see you in here, Draco was almost frantic at the thought you might have decided to go to the match anyways."

"While I can now fly without something life-threatening happening to me or those flying with me, Quidditch still doesn't interest me. I went to see Hagrid. He's back."

Pansy's grin dimmed a bit. "Does that mean he's taking over Care of Magical Creatures again?" she asked.

"Yes, and Umbridge will probably be inspecting one of his first classes," Harry said. Pansy grimaced.

"I hope he gets to meet her beforehand," she said. "He's not my favorite person—don't give me that look, Potter. I'm allowed to have opinions—but no one should face her inspections without at least meeting that dreadful woman. I'm starting to question if she's even a woman. I've seen hags with better fashion sense than her."

Harry chuckled. "Mutated toad?" he suggested. Pansy shrieked with laughter.

"A transfiguration project gone wrong," she agreed. "Drink up! Join in the celebrations, even if you don't care about the reason why we're celebrating. Everyone needs a break right now."

To appease Pansy, Harry raised the bottle, tilting it towards her in a small salute and took a few obligatory sips. It must have satisfied her because Pansy turned her attention on to someone else and left Harry alone for a few minutes.

The teen surveyed the room, easily spotting his yearmates. Many of them were in the center of the room, supporting Draco and celebrating his win. A few were off to the side, like Tracey and Blaise and Daphne and Theo.

Harry's eyes had skimmed over Daphne and Theo, taking note of their presence but a few heartbeats afterwards, they had snapped back to the pair. They were standing quite close, almost embracing, and seemed to be leaning closer and closer until—

Yep. That was a kiss.

Harry averted his eyes once it became apparent that neither Daphne nor Theo were going to pull apart any time soon. He purposefully kept his gaze away from the portion of the wall they were standing against, not quite ready to be confronted with that sight for a second time.

"Are you okay?"

Harry jumped as Tracey spoke up from behind him. He turned to face her and held in a sigh as he realized she wasn't looking directly at him but rather over his shoulder in the direction of Daphne and Theo.

"I'm fine," he said quickly. Apparently too quickly as Tracey frowned at his answer.

"I thought you and her were a couple," she said, gesturing in Daphne's direction.

"Last year," Harry replied. "Mostly for appearances."

"I realized that," Tracey said in a dry tone. "Especially when you didn't mention that her to anyone this summer. Still, I wanted to make sure you're okay. I wasn't sure how invested you were into that partial relationship."

"Partial?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You just admitted that it was for appearances' sake," Tracey said. "I'm not going to call it an actual relationship, especially since I'm pretty sure nothing happened besides a few kisses on the cheeks and holding hands. Remember, I know you too well."

Harry grimaced. "I don't know how to feel about that," he said. "But I'm fine. Why would I be bothered by what they're doing? I never had any real feelings for Daphne."

"Is that why you can't look in their direction?" Tracey asked before shrugging and walking away when Harry gaped at her.

As much as Harry wanted to act like he didn't care what Daphne did or didn't do, the truth was that he was hurt and he was surprised by how much he was hurt.

And that was why he had asked Daphne for a heads up before she decided to officially end things. Then he could have avoided her for a few days until he had time to process the situation and brace himself for any unexpected emotions. He had hoped that Daphne would at least honor his request but apparently she hadn't.

Harry downed the rest of his butterbeer in a few large gulps before he wandered away to find some place to discard the empty bottle. He found the rubbish pile in one of the far, rarely used corners of the common room, where a first year was sitting alone.

"Don't feel like celebrating?" he asked Sarah Entwhistle, who appeared to be finishing up some homework.

"No," she said simply, barely noting his presence.

"Did you go watch the Quidditch match?" Harry asked, trying to engage the girl. He didn't like the fact that she was sitting alone, off in a corner. It felt wrong, especially when no one else in the room was sitting by themselves.

"Yes. It was boring," Sarah replied. "All sports are boring to watch. I'd much rather be doing something that I can actually participate in."

"You could participate in the celebrations," Harry suggested. Sarah finally looked up at him and blew out some air.

"They scored lots of points and someone caught a tiny ball to earn more points. What's there to celebrate?"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle.

"It does seem silly when you put it that way," he admitted. "But some people get passionate about things that seem silly to others."

"I suppose," Sarah admitted reluctantly.

"What about you?" Harry asked. "What are you passionate about?"

"I want to own my own business," Sarah said, ducking her head slightly.

"That's pretty cool. What kind of business?" Harry asked.

Sarah gave a small pout. "I don't know any more," she said. "I was starting to come up with ideas but then I got my Hogwarts letter and everything changed. There's a lot more that can be done with magic."

"Magic's pretty world changing, isn't it?"

Sarah nodded.

"It's hard though sometimes with my parents," she said quietly. "They don't completely understand magic and my brother can't show them because apparently it's against the rules to use magic in the summer."

Harry chuckled at Sarah's put out expression. "Do they like magic?" he asked.

Sarah bobbed her head. "They think it's fascinating," she said. "But they just get frustrated when they can't explain something about the magical world or help us with our homework. They think that parents are supposed to be able to help with those things but they can't."

"What do—"

"Potter!"

Harry snapped his head around as someone shouting his name cut off the question he was about to ask. He sighed and stood up when he saw a group of sixth and seventh year girls waving him over. Glancing at Sarah revealed that she had already gone back to her homework and ignoring everything around her.

"We're starting to get worried about you, Potter," one of the girls said as Harry approached the group. He raised an eyebrow as he waited for them to continue. He had never really interacted with the older students in Slytherin, besides the Prefects occasionally, so he wasn't sure what this might be about.

"You've been hanging out with mudbloods a lot. We're getting concerned about the way you've been handling yourself. It's not Slytherin-like at all."

Harry internally groaned as the leader of the group of girls started talking. She was a seventh-year, one that had tolerated Malfoy during the first few years and even encouraged his anti-muggleborn and anti-Gryffindor and Hufflepuff comments.

"Granger we could understand somewhat, since everyone knows she has a tendency to cling on to anyone who is the slightest bit nice to her, but you shouldn't be concerning yourself with the house abomination. She's not going to make it here. Everyone can see that."

The other girls were nodding in agreement while Harry gave them a tired look. He rubbed his scar in frustration before he turned away from the group and stalked away. He was tempted to go sit by Sarah to prove that he wasn't going to listen to them but he didn't want to bring any hardship onto her. So far Sarah's life in Slytherin house had been relatively peaceful and smooth and he didn't want the first year to be targeted because of him.

"What kind of nonsense were they spouting off?" Tracey asked when Harry sat down on the sofa between her and Blaise.

"How do you know they were spouting off nonsense?" Harry asked.

"I know that look on your face. And I know them. The years tend to mingle a lot more in the privacy of dorms—at least among us girls. They're utterly ridiculous and don't have a lot of friends outside their group, even among Slytherin house. So what nonsense were they telling you?"

Harry sighed. "They don't think I've been keeping the right company."

Both Tracey and Blaise laughed.

"You're one of the last people who needs to worry about that," Blaise said. "A person only needs to worry about their connections when they need to make a name for themselves. You made your name and place in history a long time ago."

"And it's caused enough misery and headaches for three lifetimes," Harry said. "Being famous isn't all that it's cocked up to be."

Both Blaise and Tracey laughed and the trio sat in silence for a moment. Harry shifted uncomfortably as he felt eyes on him and when he looked around, he saw the same group of girls staring at him, silently judging.

"Ignore them," Tracey said. "You can afford to ignore them. They don't know what they're talking about half the time. Honestly, I think they're just wondering how you got Sorted into Slytherin."

"What?" Harry asked.

Tracey shrugged. "You haven't noticed? You're not like the typical Slytherin—which isn't a bad thing necessarily. But it makes it difficult to pin you down or predict what you'll do next to those outside of our year. They don't know what drives you or what your goals are and it makes them edgy."

"I'm fine with that," Harry decided. Blaise muffled a snort of laughter at his attitude before passing a butterbeer and a cauldron cake over to Harry from a pile he and Tracey had claimed for themselves.

"Settle in," Blaise told Harry. "This party is going to last for a couple more hours."

* * *

The celebrations over the weekend had taken Harry's mind off of Umbridge and her growing control over the school but it wasn't to last. At breakfast on Monday, she was sitting at the head table in bright pink robes that would have put Lockhart's flashy collection to shame and the color was seared into Harry's mind for the rest of the day. He lost count of the amount of times throughout the day he saw a swish of pink disappearing around the corner or a flash of pink out of the corner of his eye.

Tuesday wasn't much better. Care of Magical Creatures took place in the morning and it was their first lesson back with Hagrid as the professor. Harry's gut twisted nervously as Hagrid directed them into the Forbidden Forest. He didn't know what the lesson was but he could already tell it would be one Umbridge wouldn't approve of if she decided to inspect this class.

Everyone was nervous to enter the Forbidden Forest and there were quite a number of shrieks when the branches snapped and the wind rustled the leaves on the ground. Even Harry felt a little bit twitchy as the nervousness from his classmates added to his own discomfort that came from walking through a place that had been off-limits since his first year.

However, Harry's nerves were soon replaced with extreme interest as they were introduced to creatures that he couldn't quite see. He could sense that they were in the clearing, feeding on the meal that Hagrid had brought to them.

It was odd, being surrounded by creatures that you couldn't see. Harry could only hope that they didn't have a taste for human flesh, like the Blast-Ended Skrewts from the year before.

Harry glanced over at his classmates. Nearly all of them were wearing frowns of confusion or looking around for the creatures that Hagrid was calling. Only a few didn't seem disgusted. There were only two exceptions—Neville and Theo. Neville was a pale, sweaty mess while Theo just looked disgusted and actually took a few steps back so that he was standing more behind Draco.

Actually make that three expressions. Draco was paler than normal and while he looked confused, he was staring in the same direction that Theo and Neville had been. Once Hagrid announced that they were studying thestrals, Draco turned two shades paler.

"Hem, hem."

Harry let out a small groan at the familiar, fake cough, no longer concerned about Draco's reaction to the thestrals.. How had Umbridge found them? They had gone deep within the forest, off any of the marked paths, and had walked for about ten minutes. There was no way she should have been able to find them unless she had been following the group from the beginning and Harry hadn't seen her when the class had congregated by Hagrid's hut. The teenager really hoped that Hagrid had told her where they would be, because he wasn't thrilled with the idea that a professor was stalking students and that's what it currently felt like.

"Hello again," Hagrid said, giving Umbridge a smile. It was the first time Harry had ever seen a genuine smile directed toward the woman and while it was slightly disturbing, it spoke of Hagrid's friendly nature, even with dangerous people and creatures.

"Don't do anything stupid," Pansy murmured into Harry's ear, leaning over.

"Why do you think I would I do something stupid?" Harry asked under his breath. Pansy gave him a flat look.

"Let the Gryffindors handle this," she said. "Let them handle Umbridge. She's been targeting them the most and honestly, I'd like to keep it that way. Imagine how furious Professor Snape would be if one of us managed to shift her attention away from Gryffindor house to Slytherin."

Harry grit his teeth but nodded when Pansy continued to stare at him, silently demanding proof that he was going to listen. He wanted to defend Hagrid but Pansy had brought up Professor Snape and Harry couldn't disappoint or anger his father. The amount of pressure the Potions Master was under was enormous and Harry refused to add to it. Severus didn't need to worry about having every action scrutinized by Umbridge, which she would start doing if she wanted to ruin Slytherin house.

"Please continue teaching as usual." Umbridge's high voice pierced the air and Harry focused his attention on the two professors. Hagrid's smile was gone and he looked bewildered as Umbridge acted out her words.

"Professor Umbridge, are you okay?" Everyone turned to stare at Hermione, who was bright red. "You look like you're being attacked by a hive of bees."

"I can assure you that's not the case, Miss Granger," Umbridge replied, turning a purple-red from a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"Flies then?"

"No."

"Because she ate them all," someone muttered loudly. Umbridge spun around to face the speaker.

"Detention, Mr. Finnigan! Now, Miss Granger, why are you asking these ridiculous questions when you should be learning?"

"Well, your arms flailing looked quite ridiculous and it was distracting everyone, including Professor Hagrid from his lesson. We're trying to learn but it's quite difficult when you're constantly interrupting with questions that honestly sound quite ignorant."

"Detention, Miss Granger! For the next week! I've never witnessed a student being so rude to a professor before!"

Hermione's red face faded into a slight pink but she showed no signs of regret. Instead, she stared at Umbridge defiantly until the older witch was forced to look away.

"Continue teaching," Umbridge ordered Hagrid, now completely purple. She turned to decide which students she would question first and who would give her what she wanted to hear but all of the Gryffindors were giving her hostile looks. The stout woman turned toward the Slytherins and her eyes landed on Pansy and Harry, who crossed his arms in slight irritation. Pansy kept her gaze anywhere but on Umbridge. After a few seconds, the woman huffed and claimed Draco and Theo as her first targets.

Harry tried to pay attention to Hagrid's lesson but Umbridge's piercing voice kept breaking through his concentration and he found himself straining to hear what his classmates were saying about Hagrid. It was too much to hope that there would be no negative comments about Hagrid and his teaching methods. However, Harry left the class feeling that maybe, just maybe Hagrid stood a chance against Umbridge. None of his classmates had said anything too horrible and most of the comments were focused on the creatures they had learned about rather on the man himself. Thankfully, Umbridge never approached Harry for his opinions and the prefect was reluctantly thankful. He wanted to confront the woman about her attitude but that would only land him in detention and Harry didn't want a repeat of that.


	50. Year 5: Part 10

After Hagrid's inspection, the rest of November and December went by quickly for the fifth years, who were starting to become overwhelmed with the amount of homework and O.W.L. preparation the professors were forcing on them. Already three students had gone to the hospital wing after having stress-induced panic attacks and that was with exams over five months away. Everyone was looking forward to Christmas and the break it would provide until…

"What do you mean we need to write a three-foot essay over the holidays?" Ron Weasley burst out as Professor McGonagall used her wand to write the assignment on the board behind her. "It's Christmas! We've never had homework over the holidays!"

"Your O.W.L.s are only a few months away and there are quite a number of you that need all the practice you can get, in both theory and wandwork. I'm not the only professor that feels this way. Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick are in agreement with me that some of you are severely behind with your proficiency in casting spells that should be second nature by now."

The entire class was gaping at Professor McGonagall, who was giving them a stern frown.

"If you're having difficulty keeping up, then you'll be severely disappointed when it comes to your sixth and seventh years. There are no breaks between O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. This level of work will become the standard for your sixth year and more will be added during your seventh to prepare you for your N.E.W.T.s. There is a reason why most professors only choose to take students that receives Exceeds Expectations on their O.W.L.s and why Acceptable can be considered unacceptable."

"Well, there goes our Christmas vacation," Tracey said glumly as she and Harry walked out of the Transfiguration classroom. "I hope Mum and Dad weren't planning on going anywhere or doing something with us."

"Want to bet that it's going to be all of our classes?" Harry asked, shoving his Transfiguration book further into his bag.

"It's going to be awful," Tracey sighed. "I doubt Professor Sprout will and possibly Professor Binns and the electives, but I'm sure all the others will."

"The electives are giving even more homework," Harry informed his foster sister. "Divination has been the worst so far but I'm sure Defense Against the Dark Arts will trump everything else."

"Knowing Umbridge, she'll probably wait to see how much every other professor is giving and double or triple it. She'll probably even give the first years work to do on the holidays," Tracey grumbled.

The pair ambled down to the Great Hall for lunch, grumbling the entire way about professors and homework over the holidays. Many of their classmates were already seated, looking distinctly more morose than the decorations in the Great Hall called for.

"The sign up for who's staying behind is going around," Pansy informed Tracey and Harry as they sat down. She passed over a few bowls as they started to fill their plates. "There're a lot of students staying behind."

Tracey quirked an eyebrow in slight surprise but didn't say anything. The parchment quickly made its way to her and Harry. Tracey passed it over to her foster brother without a blink, never considering staying at Hogwarts over the holidays. Harry held on to the list, scanning over the names of those who were staying. There was an even mixture between the houses but a few of the names on the list surprised Harry.

Astoria and Daphne Greengrass. Theodore Nott. Pansy Parkinson.

Harry glanced over Pansy, who gave a one-shoulder shrug.

"My father has to travel for work over the holidays," she said in answer to his unasked question. "My mother is going with him. I didn't want to stay in the manor all by myself and there's decent enough company here."

Harry's eyebrows narrowed slightly but he didn't say anything, merely passing on the list to a group of fourth years sitting nearby.

"You're missing a great opportunity to throw a wicked party," Tracey said lightly. Pansy smirked.

"It was tempting," she agreed. "But the house-elves would have informed my parents of my plans. They're under orders to tell my parents everything that I do. It's quite annoying sometimes."

"Just sometimes?" Tracey asked in faint disgust. "I would hate being spied on all the time."

Pansy grimaced. "I would too. Thankfully it's not all the time, just when my parents aren't in the manor. By having the house-elves keep an eye on me, my parents think that they _care._ "

"Well, you're going to have an eventful holiday here," Tracey said. "Daphne _and_ Theo are staying? I'm starting to think that she's no longer just pretending to be his boyfriend, especially after everything we've been hearing in the dorms."

Pansy glanced over at Harry and Tracey gave him a guilty look but Harry merely shrugged.

"I'm over the shock," he said. "Good for them if that's the case."

"Theo hasn't said anything about her in the boys' dorms?" Pansy pushed.

"He's quieter than Blaise and I combined," Harry said. "Though really, the only loud mouths in our year are Crabbe and Goyle. And Malfoy, when the topic is Quidditch."

Pansy and Tracey both rolled their eyes. "Typical," Pansy muttered. "Pass the peas, would you?"

* * *

The final days leading up to the winter holidays were some of the busiest of the term, with all of the fifth years trying to finish their assigned work before break actually started, final meetings for all of the student-led organizations (both approved and illicit), and with students frantically packing during the final few hours.

Packing was a strange sensation for Harry. He was used to packing at the end of the year but aside from last year, he had never packed for the winter holidays. It was difficult not to pack everything he had and just what he would need. It was impossible to count how many things he had packed, then removed, and then repacked because he didn't want to leave it behind for it to potentially get ruined.

"For Merlin's sake, Potter, just make up your mind!" Blaise snapped as Harry dumped his trunk's contents on his bed yet again. "Packing isn't something that's difficult to do, unless you happen to be Crabbe or Goyle."

Harry glared at his dormmate, who was lounging on his bed, his trunk and a few other things stacked neatly at the foot of his bed.

"If you don't like my methods, do it for me then," he replied hotly. "Don't say anything if you're going to sit there and do nothing. You're just wasting words."

"I never waste words," Blaise said with a yawn. After stretching his arms out, he got to his feet and all but shoved Harry out of the way. He stared down at the contents on the bed for a few seconds before he waved his wand and began to direct items where to go.

"We haven't learned that spell yet," Harry stated.

"We don't normally learn household charms. I was forced to learn this one because of the multiple moves my mother and I have made. You'd be surprised how many men are uncomfortable with the thought of living in a dead man's house with the deceased's widow. Anyways, the practical charms aren't in the curriculum," Blaise replied. "The Ministry thinks that there's no point in students learning these particular charms because they'll pick it up from parents or house-elves will handle it for the wealthier families. However, they do consider it essential that we learn how to make fruit tap dance."

"That doesn't make sense," Harry muttered.

Blaise turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "That's because the Ministry doesn't understand practical anymore," he said. "You're done. Now lock your trunk and wardrobe so we can actually enjoy the rest of our time until break starts."

Harry rolled his eyes but did as Blaise suggested and the pair headed for the common room, where there were a number of fifth, sixth, and seventh year students struggling to finish their homework before the train left.

"You're joking," Daphne said as she spotted Blaise and Harry pulling out a deck of Exploding Snap cards. She pushed away her Transfiguration homework in slight frustration. "Don't you two have homework to be doing?"

"I finished mine," Harry stated.

"I haven't even started most of mine," Blaise replied as he began to deal out the cards. "I'm waiting until I get home to avoid spending time with my mother and her newest husband."

"Why don't you just stay at Hogwarts if you're not going to even spend time with your family?" Daphne asked with a biting tone to her question.

"Because Christmas is about being with family," Blaise replied, treating the question as if it was a stupid one. Daphne glared at him and Blaise chuckled. "It doesn't matter if I actually spend time with them or not. My mother is satisfied as long as I'm in the same house."

Daphne stared at Blaise for a few seconds before she gave a frustrated sigh and pulled her Transfiguration homework back towards her. Harry caught Tracey giving Blaise a sympathetic look before she realized that Harry was looking at her. Cheeks turning a faint pink, Tracey busied herself with a Defense Against the Dark Arts essay.

Harry and Blaise played Exploding Snap in relative silence, with the explosions being the few exceptions. A few games in, Harry and Blaise focused less on the game itself and seeing if they could subtly push the cards to explode more on the other person.

Daphne let out a shrill shriek as a handful of cards toppled over onto her homework and exploded, leaving scorch marks and a burning corner on her Transfiguration essay.

Tracey's hand jolted at the sudden high-pitched noise right next to her and she scowled as her quill tore through the parchment.

"Daphne!" she scolded in frustration.

"Blame _them!"_ Daphne declared, waving a hand to Harry and Blaise who were in a silent debate about who had caused the cards to go in the girls' direction.

"It was an accident," Blaise said, taking his gaze away from Harry. "Are you really going to blame us for an accident?"

Daphne rolled her eyes but said nothing, choosing to put out her burning parchment instead. She couldn't prove that either of the boys had done it on purpose but she wasn't going to let the incident slide.

Catching the glint in Daphne's eye, Tracey picked up her parchment, quill, and ink, and sat back in her seat. A throw pillow was quickly conjured into a desk table and she started writing her essay over. At least it was only a draft and not the final copy like Daphne's had been.

For the next couple of games, both Blaise and Harry alike suffered sudden setbacks that involved with the cards falling or nearly falling onto their laps. Naturally they suspected Daphne, but since her wand wasn't visible and she wasn't doing anything obvious, they couldn't blame her.

After all, why should they blame someone for an accident, no matter how suspicious it was?

When breakfast came around (served late to accommodate the train schedule and to give students a few extra hours to do homework and get things arranged), Tracey had a final paragraph to write on her final essay and Daphne only had two essays and a bit of review left to do. Harry waited behind for his sister to finish while Blaise and Daphne decided to go on ahead.

"Finally," Tracey declared, finishing her essay with a ferocious flourish. "I didn't think it was possible but I managed to get that mountain of paper done before holiday."

"We're probably one of the few," Harry commented as Tracey stretched and tried to get the tingling out of her feet and legs. "It really wasn't a lot of work for each class—except for DADA and Potions—but I think it was the fact that we had homework to do over break and that it all came during the same day that overwhelmed most people."

"Tell that to the Gryffindors," Tracey muttered. "Everyone except Granger was still in denial about the fact that they actually had coursework and hadn't started it yet."

Harry rolled his eyes, unsurprised.

Breakfast passed quickly and then it was time to board the Hogwarts Express for the students returning home. As Prefect, Harry was supposed to patrol the train corridors every half hour in case something was to happen.

Not that something would happen. Unlike at Hogwarts, there were very few areas that students could go where they weren't supposed to be and there were eyes everywhere. For the most part, Harry only had to deal with the tattling and that he had learned to block out after the first hour.

"I'm returning my Prefect's badge at the end of the year," Harry muttered after he completed his last set of rounds. His foster sister and Blaise chuckled.

"That would be a first," Blaise said. "I don't think Professor Snape would know how to react. A Slytherin Prefect has never turned in their badge."

"No Prefect ever has," Tracey added. "There's only been a handful who had that privilege revoked and that was either because they were being expelled or their grades went down and professors decided they needed to focus on studying more."

"A Prefect was expelled?" Harry and Blaise both raised eyebrows.

"They were caught taking books out of the Restricted Section," Tracey said. "Without permission."

"So, doesn't everyone do that at least once?" Blaise scoffed.

"The books discussed summoning…creatures. Spirits. Demons." Tracey rolled her eyes as Blaise broke out in laughter. "I know. It's amusing now but it was a couple of centuries ago, when people believed that such things existed."

"Why would they even keep a book like that in a school?" Harry asked. "Isn't that just asking for trouble?"

Tracey shrugged. "You'd be surprised what books end up in the Restricted Section."

"The Ministry probably donated it," Blaise said as he recovered from his laughing fit. "After all, the Hogwarts library is considered a private collection. The Ministry is required to have a public list of all the books and texts they have in their departments, even the Department of Mysteries, but private collections don't have such requirements, so the Ministry donates books and artifacts from time to time. One of my former stepfathers worked in the Department of Magical History, which oversees the public registry of texts. He would occasionally bring books home that were deemed too dangerous for the public to have access to."

Harry and Tracey both grimaced at that bit of knowledge.

"So he brought them home to—how old were you at the time?" Tracey demanded of Blaise.

"Six, I think. He disappeared a few days before my seventh birthday, I remember."

"So he brought them home where a six-year-old could find them?" Tracey asked.

Blaise shrugged and leaned his head back so it was resting on the compartment cushions. "I guess he was hoping I would be curious enough to look inside of them and burn my eyes out or curse me inadvertently."

"He sounds like a lovely person," Harry drawled and Blaise chuckled.

"Sure he was. That's why that was the shortest marriage of my mother's so far."

Three sets of lips twitched upwards into smiles that all three Slytherins were desperately trying to repress.

"Well, have fun over break," Tracey said as the Hogwarts Express started pulling into the station. She stood and got to her feet, making sure that her trunk was within easy reach for when they disembarked in less than a minute. "Let me know who doesn't survive the holidays."

"It's Christmas," Blaise protested as Harry opened the compartment door. "We save that stuff for the summer holidays."

Tracey rolled her eyes and shifted her feet to keep her balance as the train jerked to a stop.

"See you in the new year," she told the dark-skinned boy before pushing her way out into the corridor which was suddenly filled with students desperate to get home now that platform nine and three-quarters was just a few feet away.

"See you next year," Harry muttered and Blaise waved them off as he pulled his own trunk down from the shelf above the seats.

Zach and Catherine were waiting near the back of the platform. Harry frowned when there wasn't a third person with them. Sirius had written and said that he would be spending the first part of the holiday with Harry and his foster family.

Hopefully that hadn't fallen through.

"Where's Chloe?" Tracey asked as they approached the parents.

"Your grandparents commandeered her for the afternoon," Catherine stated. "They took her to St. Mungo's to treat her ear infection."

Tracey grimaced.

"Where's Sirius?" Harry asked.

"He had a meeting to go to. He'll be back late tonight," Zach stated. "He wanted to be here but he said the meeting was unavoidable and that he had to attend."

Harry's frown deepened. Another meeting. He shouldn't be surprised but somehow he had assumed that those meetings were held during the summertime only.

If Sirius had only given a name of the meeting or the people he was meeting with, Harry wouldn't have bothered. But the lack of details, the lack of names…it was starting to make him think that Sirius was up to something.

No, that couldn't be it. Sirius couldn't be part of a secret organization that was forming an underground resistance. That was something that teenagers and preteens did, not adults.

Right?


	51. Year 5: Part 11

"You missed the meeting," a dull voice said from a shadowed corner. Severus sneered as Sirius stepped more to the center of the hallway.

"Still lurking in corners, Black?" he asked.

"Said the kettle to the cauldron," Sirius retorted. "Don't deny it."

Severus didn't. Instead, he raised an eyebrow. "Out of my way," he muttered.

"Dumbledore wanted me to fill you in on what you missed," Sirius said but he did step to the side to let the professor pass.

"So you decided to wait up for me like a lonely housewife? Forgive me if I don't feel honored."

Sirius scowled at him. "Don't be a twat," he snapped. "I wasn't thrilled about it when Dumbledore told me. I wanted to get this out of the way so I can leave this damn house and enjoy my holidays. Besides, it's not like I sleep at night anyways."

Severus stared at the other man for a few seconds before he let out a heavy sigh. "You can start nattering on then. It's clear you won't leave me alone until you've fulfilled your part of being the Headmaster's owl."

"Owl? That's the best you can come up with?" Sirius challenged, causing Severus to scowl. Obscene words flowed through his mind but before they left his lips, Sirius starting filling the spy in on what he had missed.

Severus was silent for a few minutes after Sirius was done relaying information, balancing what he had just heard with what had been discovered at the meeting Voldemort had called. There had been an increase in meetings on both sides recently and an increase in information. Determining what bits of information should be passed on was becoming more difficult day by day.

And more dangerous. Severus was well aware that he was walking a line that was growing thinner with each passing day.

Sirius stretched and prepared to leave, ready to be out of this horrible house. "I'll leave you to your thoughts," he drawled. "There's a nice beam in the attic you can hang upside down on if you feel the need to sleep."

The sneer Severus gave him was automatic but he stopped Sirius and pulled out a small present.

"I assume you'll be seeing him over the holidays. Give this to him."

Sirius sighed but nodded.

"You two should try actually talking to each other sometimes," he suggested as he pocketed the box. "And not use me as your go-between."

"We have talked," Severus murmured. "But there's only so much we can do so until it becomes suspicious. He doesn't receive the attention he surely would have received if he had been Sorted into Gryffindor but there are still those that watch him closely and there is always someone watching me due to my past."

"That shouldn't stop you."

"Gryffindor idealism," Severus replied with a humorless smile. "The less questions amongst others there are, the better. Could you imagine what would happen if the Dark Lord knew the truth? Or the Ministry? Or even Dumbledore? It's one thing to be the son of martyrs and revolutionaries, quite another to be related to a spy."

"I'm surprised," Sirius drawled. "I would have never imagined you to be so selfless."

Severus refused to comment. Everything he did was carefully calculated and he was determined to get Harry out of this war alive. Maybe once Harry was out of Hogwarts and once the Dark Lord had been defeated, they could try to have a relationship that parents and children were supposed to have but until then, he couldn't act carelessly. His entire youth was filled with reckless actions that had damaged his life and he refused to act that way now and damage someone else's life.

When Sirius saw that he wasn't going to get a response, he rolled his eyes and shook his head before strolling out of Grimmauld Place and apparated away. He had better places to be.

* * *

"Harry, wake up!"

Harry burrowed further into his pillow as Tracey's shout woke him up. He considered hiding his head under the pillow but that soon became impossible as Tracey yanked his pillow away from his head.

"Go away," Harry muttered, bringing his duvet up further in an attempt to use part of it as a pillow. Last night he had been up for far longer than he was used to and now he was regretting it. Sirius hadn't come while he had still been awake and the lack of sleep would torture him later today.

"It's Christmas though! Breakfast is ready!"

"I don't smell any food," Harry grumbled. Tracey sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Fine, it's not but it will be soon, once Mum and Dad wake up."

"What time is it?" Harry asked.

"Half past six."

Harry turned to face his bedside table and grabbed his wand, turning it on Tracey's blurry form. "Let me sleep," he ordered, though his words were muffled by a yawn. "Or I'll hex you. Wake me up in three hours."

"But it's Christmas!"

"I don't care," Harry snapped, waving his wand in a threatening manner. Sparks shot out from the end. "Let me sleep. It was nearly two by the time I fell asleep last night."

"You're so boring," Tracey decided but left Harry to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, she took his pillow with her as she left.

Harry sighed and pulled his duvet up further, tucking more of the fabric under his head. It wasn't as comfortable as his pillow but hopefully it would do. The wizard turned on his side after setting his wand back on the bedside table and closed his eyes, ready for sleep to overtake him once again.

The minutes ticked by slowly as Harry waited to go back to sleep, tossing and turning as he did so. No position felt comfortable anymore and the more he tried to will himself to sleep, the more awake he felt.

After what felt like half an hour of this, the dark-haired teen sighed and sat up. There was no point. It was obvious that he wasn't going back to sleep. Muttering mild obscenities under his breath about teen witches who apparently needed no sleep, Harry shoved his glasses on his face and started getting ready to face the day.

When Harry entered the living room, he was surprised to see Sirius there, teaching Tracey a few tricks to help win at Exploding Snap. What time had his godfather gotten in?

"This is why I was trying to wake you up," Tracey said when she spotted Harry. "But you had to be stubborn about it."

Harry glared at her and pulled his pillow off of the chair she was sitting on, dragging Tracey off the chair as well in the process. She yelped as she fell to the ground and glared at him, hand hovering over her wand out of reflex.

"You two remind me a lot of me and my brother," Sirius commented as he watched the interaction between the two teenagers.

"You have a brother?" Tracey asked.

"You've never mentioned him to me," Harry said.

"It never came up before," Sirius said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I usually don't think about him but Christmas has a way of bringing up a lot of memories. We got on a lot better before I went to Hogwarts and then when I was sorted into Gryffindor and he was sorted into Slytherin a year later, we drifted apart. He died during the first war."

"What was his name?" Harry asked softly as Tracey offered up some condolences.

"Regulus," Sirius answered. "He was everything that my parents could never force me to be. Needless to say he was the favorite."

"How did he die?"

"Voldemort, from what I understand," Sirius said. "Regulus always wanted to be a Death Eater but once he got in and realized that it wasn't all that my parents said it would be, he wanted out, but you can't just resign from being a Death Eater. You're one for life, though if Voldemort had his way, a Death Eater would be one in death as well."

"Hey now, it's Christmas," Zach said as he walked into the room, a sniffling Chloe in his arms. "Let's try not to talk about those things. Just for one day."

"I think one day is possible," Sirius agreed quickly. "Who's up for breakfast?"

Harry frowned as his godfather got to his feet and busied himself. He glanced over to Tracey but if she found anything out of the ordinary, she didn't let on. She had taken Chloe out of her father's arms and was working on distracting the baby, who was a lot bigger than Harry remembered her being in September.

Chloe's developments while Harry and Tracey had been away had shocked both of the teenagers. They had been prepared to miss a lot of the big milestones in her development (and already they had received a few letters at Hogwarts detailing what they had missed with pictures included) but they hadn't realized just how much they were missing until they had seen their younger sister for the first time in months.

"Do you think she'll begin to crawl or speak soon?" Tracey asked as Harry approached his two sisters.

"Let's hope not for another couple of weeks," Zach called over to them, having overheard the question. "Or months. I don't know if I'm ready to chase after a toddler. It's been a few years since I had to do that and I remember it being tiring then."

"What are you talking about? I was an angel child," Tracey protested. "Look at the photos. I was always sitting and acting proper."

"Those pictures don't show the hours that it took to get you dressed and in the mood to sit there and not cry," her father countered.

Harry took a few steps away from the now bickering father and daughter pair, heading in to the kitchen to help with breakfast.

"You never sat still long enough for pictures unless they put the cat on your lap and even then, it wasn't a guarantee because half of the time, you two ended up rolling around and trying to play with each other."

"They had a cat?" Harry asked.

"Lily did. I believe she told us one time it was because cats can blend in better in the Muggle world. You loved that thing and James was pretty confident that it was the reason you learned how to crawl so soon."

"I'm never going to hear those types of stories, am I?" Harry asked. "At least I won't be able to hear them from my parents."

"No, you won't," Sirius said reluctantly. "But I was trying to show you that there are people in the world who can tell you those types of stories. And I'm not the only one who has those stories. I can think of a handful of people who would be able to."

Harry said nothing. He knew who Sirius was talking about but somehow, he couldn't see him having this type of conversation with his father.

Both Harry and Sirius breathed a sigh of relief when Catherine stepped into the kitchen, having been awaken by the increasingly loud activity downstairs.

"Happy Christmas," Catherine said, smiling softly at the two dark-haired wizards. "Let's get breakfast on the table so we can eat before everyone else gets here to open presents."

"Everyone else?"

"One of the upsides of having a baby is that extended family wants to visit, especially around the holidays. Of course, that means it's going to get very busy and loud in an hour or so."

* * *

And busy it became. Harry had heard about Tracey's relatives here and there but other than her parents and her grandparents, he hadn't met or spent time around any of them before. He was wishing he had now, because meeting everyone at once became quickly overwhelming.

At least he wasn't being the only one overwhelmed. Whenever Harry could catch a glance of Sirius, his godfather also looked amazed at the amount of people the house was holding.

The day passed in a blur, as Harry struggled to remember who he had met and which presents lying around the house had been given to whom. Chloe had gotten the most presents by far, as everyone wanted to spoil her, but she had gotten the most entertainment out of the wrapping paper. Even hours later, she was still fascinated by the bright and sparkling paper that crunched in her hands.

After dinner, relatives trickled out of the house (usually with leftovers in hand), eventually just leaving its usual inhabitants.

"I'm glad you came today," Harry said as Sirius prepared to leave a few hours after everyone else had left.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," Sirius replied. "I'm glad you get to celebrate it with family, even if it's not the way I always dreamed it would be."

"They wanted to adopt me," Harry admitted to Sirius. "Still do, I think."

"But you said no." Sirius realized. "Is there any particular reason why?"

"I would have felt too guilty, being adopted while I'm well aware that I still have blood relatives living."

"Sometimes staying with your blood family isn't the best decision. Believe me, I grew up in an environment that wasn't healthy in any way and being taken in by the Potters was the best thing that ever happened to me. They saved my life, quite literally. I wouldn't have survived another year with my mother. You shouldn't feel guilty about leaving a situation that isn't healthy."

"But things could still change," Harry argued softly.

"They could but you can't live your life relying on possibilities and uncertainties. Even if circumstances did change, it doesn't mean they would change for the better. People can try and try to change but sometimes no amount of change will fix things. Don't let the thoughts of what might happen hold you back from the good things in your life or make you blind to what's really happening."

Harry bit his lip in frustration. Sirius waited for a minute, expecting more arguments but they never came. After a period of silence, the older wizard sighed.

"Since we just got done discussing blood family," he muttered under his breath but still loud enough for Harry to understand him. Sirius patted his robes, feeling for the hidden pockets along the seams. "He knew he wouldn't get the chance to deliver it today, so he asked me to give you this."

Harry's eyes widened as Sirius withdrew a small, wrapped box from his pocket and handed it over. He took it with hands that were shaking slightly.

"Thanks," he muttered as he shoved the unexpected present into his own pocket. It was small and flat enough that he barely noticed it and it went forgotten until the end of the night, when Harry was getting ready for bed.

Harry set the present on his bed as he got into his pajamas, wondering what was underneath the wrapping paper. When the curiosity became too great, he finally settled on the bed and quickly tore off the wrapping paper, partially tearing a note attached to it in the process.

_To help you figure out where you want to go next in your life._

_S._

Narrowing his eyes, Harry frowned and opened up the box. Inside was a pocket watch with a four-pointed star in the middle. Three hands marked the time in hours, minutes, and seconds, but the fourth hand just spun rapidly in circles until Harry focused on it. Then it slowed its rotations until it stood still at the number 3.

It wasn't until Harry spotted a faded E under the 3 that he realized what the fourth hand was—an orienting arrow. There was a compass underneath the clock face but its arrow wasn't pointing North.

Perplexing.

Harry set the compass-watch (was there a name for objects of this type? He really needed to find out) on his bedside table. His glasses soon joined his newest Christmas gift and Harry flicked off his bedside light as he settled into his bed. As the teen drifted off to sleep, the compass watch was at the forefront of his mind, so it was no surprise that his dreams began with the spinning arrows of a compass that changed directions every time he tried to follow where it was pointing. A white line seemed to flow out of the compass but no matter how long Harry ran, following after it, the line never seemed to end anywhere.

As Harry ran after the line, he felt his body changing until he was no longer human, but something else entirely, sliding along the floor on his belly. The area around him darkened and became not wooded like the forest he had been running through but a cool stone building. Turning his head from side to side, he could see stone walls stretching for as far as he could see. A corridor and at the end of it, there was a man sitting on the floor.

The man stirred as Harry approached and when he spotted the creature approaching him, vibrations shot through the air as a wand was drawn. The colors surrounding the man went from a cool purple-red to bright orange.

Harry felt his new body rear up and lunge towards the man not once, not twice, but three distinct times, plunging fangs into any body part that he could reach. Blood flooded into his mouth and he relished the taste. He considered striking again to spill more of that warm blood—

"HARRY!"

Green eyes flew open and Harry shot up into a sitting position, clutching at his forehead. Harry gasped and shuddered, the cool drying sweat on his back making his nightclothes stick to his skin. He swallowed heavily and then retched as he remembered the taste of blood in his mouth.

"Harry, what's happened? Speak to me."

Zach was beside the bed, pulling Harry away from the vomit and into his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could spot Tracey's form into the doorway. The smaller wizard continued to shudder and gulped in air as he processed what he could still remember.

"I need to talk to Sirius," Harry said as soon as he was able to get out words. "It's an emergency."

Tracey disappeared from the doorway and Harry could hear feet pounding towards the living room. Zach sat with him for a few long moments until Sirius burst through the bedroom door, looking panicked.

"What's happened?" Sirius demanded as he took in the sight of the twisted sheets, pillows kicked off the bed, the vomit on the bed, and the overturned bedside table that Harry couldn't remember knocking over.

"Ron Weasley's father was attacked!" Harry said as quickly as possible. "There was a stone corridor and he was sitting at the end of it. There was this creature—I think it was some sort of reptile—and it attacked him. There was a lot of blood and I…"

Harry trailed off as his stomach rolled again at the memory of all the blood. He pushed away from Zach and vomited a second time, this time on the floor.

Zach and Sirius traded looks. The Davis patriarch gave a small nod and Sirius turned on his heel, striding toward the living room and the fireplace, before flooing directly into Grimmauld Place.

Harry flinched when an arm wrapped around his shoulders but he didn't pull away from Zach. As his breathing slowed down, he felt himself leaning into his foster father's comforting hold. Lifting a trembling hand, Harry rubbed his scar as it continued to twinge painfully.

"Your scar's hurting?" Harry nodded at Zach's question.

"I think it was the pain that woke me up, not you and Tracey," he murmured quietly. "It's never hurt that badly before. It felt like a burning ice pick was stabbing me repeatedly."

"It's not the first time it's been bothering him," Tracey said. Harry straightened up and shot his sister a betrayed glare. "His scar has been causing him pain at least two or three times a week. Has been ever since this summer. I would have said something sooner if I had known that it was causing nightmares."

"It's just been a twinge here or there!" Harry protested when Zach looked at him more carefully. "And this was the first time I've had a nightmare like that. There's no way I would have been able to keep that secret in the dorms at Hogwarts."

Zach sighed. "Catherine is making some hot chocolate in the kitchen," he said. "Do you think you can walk?"

Harry nodded.

"Then let's see if we can get you a pain potion to help with your scar," Zach said. "Hot chocolate will get rid of the taste and help pass the time while we wait for Sirius to come back. Why don't you two go on and I'll clean up here."

Harry stood up shakily and eagerly headed for the lit hallway. Tracey placed his glasses carefully on his face, having picked them up at some point from the floor. Once able to see clearly again, Harry spotted the scared look in his sister's eyes.

"I'll be fine," he said as they walked down the hallway.

"That was really scary," Tracey said. "Your screams woke everyone up. It sounded like you were getting murdered."

No, just witnessing an attempted one, Harry thought dully as they entered the kitchen. His foster mother looked relieved to see him up and about and pushed two mugs of hot chocolate at the pair of teenagers.

"Where's Chloe?" Harry asked, not seeing the youngest member of the household anywhere.

"Still sleeping," Catherine replied. "That girl can sleep through anything."

Harry breathed a silent sigh of relief, grateful that he hadn't woken up everyone in the house with his nightmare. It was bad enough that he had woken up most of the family.

"Harry needs a pain potion," Tracey said. "It's his scar."

Harry's cheeks flushed a bright red as Catherine gave him an appraising look. "It's not as bad as it was a few minutes ago," he muttered. "I don't need to be fussed over so much. It was just a nightmare."

"Just nightmares don't make you scream like that," Tracey pointed out. Harry glared at her. "Besides, Sirius didn't seem to think that it was just a nightmare."

"It's too early to be arguing," Catherine said lightly. "Drink your hot chocolate."

Tracey and Harry took a few sips as Catherine began to rummage around in the cupboards. After looking in a few, she pulled out a small vial and set it in front of Harry, who reluctantly drank the vile potion. As he was washing the taste out of his mouth and overpowering it with hot chocolate, the pain in his forehead didn't seep away like the pain would have with a normal headache or injury. Harry didn't say anything though, knowing the fuss it would cause. He was already uncomfortable enough knowing that most of the family was choosing to stay up with him.

Zach came in a few minutes later, stretching as he entered the kitchen. He glanced at Harry, who gave him a weak, tired smile, desperate to convey that he was fine. When his foster father looked away, Harry wasn't entirely convinced that he had succeeded.

* * *

The next few hours passed slowly. One cup of hot chocolate became two and after two became three for the teenagers, the adults switched to tea, sensing that there would be no sleep for the rest of the night. As much as Harry wanted to believe that what he had was nothing but a nightmare, as more time passed, he became less and less convinced.

And when Sirius returned, there was no denying it any longer. As his godfather came through the floo, Harry could tell that something was wrong. It was only when things were wrong that a person appeared to age ten years in the space of a few hours.

"It wasn't just a nightmare, was it?" Harry asked. Sirius let out a heavy sigh.

"It's true that Arthur Weasley was attacked tonight by a snake," he confirmed. Catherine raised a hand to cover her mouth as a horrified look crossed her face. Zach's face grew grimmer and darker at the news.

"Was it venomous?" he asked.

"We don't know for sure," Sirius replied. "He bled out before any venom could take effect."

"So he's dead," Harry stated glumly. Sirius gave a solemn nod. "If I had woken up earlier—"

"Stop!"

"Don't!"

Zach and Sirius traded looks, having cut Harry off at the same time.

"It's not your fault," Sirius said. "Don't waste your time on ifs. I've seen too many lives destroyed by people wondering what they could have done better. You made it possible that Arthur was able to say goodbye to his wife and eldest son, something that wouldn't have happened if you hadn't given us a warning. We might not have even had a body to give to the Weasley family if it wasn't for you."

"What do you mean, there might not have been a body?" Tracey asked. Sirius gave her parents a guilty look as it became clear that he had revealed too much. Before he could correct his error, Tracey's eyes widened in horror and her face turned a sickly green color. "That's repulsive," she whispered and promptly gagged.

A solemn silence blanketed the room as the three adults and two teenagers processed the night's events, slowly finishing their third batch of hot chocolate and tea. Harry's fingers twisted nervously into knots, unable to remain still. After a few minutes, a small wail carried through the house.

Catherine sat down her mug. "I've got Chloe," she said. Tracey followed after her mother, desperate to leave the room.

Once the door to the kitchen closed, Zach sighed and got to his feet. He rummaged around in the cupboards before he pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey and three glasses. Setting them down, he poured two fingers worth of the alcohol in each glass before passing one to Sirius and the second to Harry, who frowned as he took it.

"To Arthur Weasley," Zach murmured quietly. "Yet another life lost in this war."


End file.
